Beauty and the Klingon
by JeffC FTW
Summary: Accomplished Ensign Jadzia Idaris vies to be joined to the Dax symbiont. When her mentor, Curzon Dax, runs into seriously deep waters and she becomes involved, he sends her into protection of the Martok House on the Klingon homeworld - but she never intended to fall in love with the mysterious, withdrawn Worf.
1. Pale Grass Blue

**The newest fic, "Beauty and the Klingon", should give a hint as to what classic tale parallels and crosses with Deep Space 9. :) The show itself provides mere inspiration, so overall this new story will be mostly fantasy elements in comparison to the believable sci-fi of the show as we all know. Worf and Jadzia Dax's relationship won't change much, but there is no telling just yet - even on my part. This is a refreshing and exciting challenge for me, and for all of you.**

 **There has been various fanart that has the couple in "Beauty and the Beast" format, and I never thought of it until discovering it with the help of friends. When I did, the idea dawned on me and became so irresistible that I could not avoid it. To do one of my favorite couples in this format is a dream, and "Beauty and the Beast" never gets old no matter how much time goes on. There will be twists and turns on the way, no spoilers. ;)**

 **I rarely do first person point of view, but the story is told in Jadzia's voice.**

 **Disclaimer: NONE of Star Trek DS9 and the characters belong to me.**

Chapter One

Pale Grass Blue

I am Jadzia Idaris, and I have accomplished so much in my life.

I spent my entire life on Trill and just wanted to do something with my life. I was so young when I first learned about the fascinating discovery of my people being joined to these...symbionts which latched onto a host and helped wisen that being, before that host's life came to an end and the symbiont would be passed onto a new host, carrying on years of experience for the next "young" one. Two functioning as one - it aroused my excitement to no end. To wonder what it would be like to actually be joined!

In school, as I was first exposed to this subject by my teachers, I can recall childish excitement at being made better and smarter by this "worm in the belly" - until I was told by my instructors that it would not be easy to be handed to you just like that. You have to get years of training, from early to mid-twenties years of age. Trill lifespans are the same as humans, but that is another story. The point was, you have to spend a lot of time learning and training to show the Symbiosis Commission that you are capable of becoming a host to a symbiont.

In high school years, I began to learn everything I could in school, put my studies above everything including my personal and social life - I never had a boyfriend, either, despite being persuaded to be set up with anyone my friends and family would place me in front of. Boys are not important as what you wanted to do with your life.

I was one of the top students and won many scholarships, much to the appraisal and pride of my instructors and my family. I was accepted into Starfleet Academy because I held passionate interest in scientific studies - primarily astrophysics, exobiology, zoology and others. Soon I will be joined after graduation, applying to the Commission and awaiting word on who would be the one to see if I am suitable for the symbiont - but when I did, the _man_ who would supervise me for the next two weeks would be the one to change my entire life.

~o~

Silvery blue glinted off wings of the birds, soaring amid the cloudless sky and the sun, symbolizing the irony of my situation. The wind wasn't even blowing. Today would be my last day on this planet which I had been born and grown up, fought long and hard -

\- and just for the moment, all I wanted to do was enjoy nature and stay out here all day.

I was given permission to have one week home with my family before I was gone for good. I had just graduated Starfleet Academy with the rank of Ensign, but not much longer. Depending on how I would go through the Initiation Program, I may get a promotion to lieutenant once I returned to work in the field. All my degrees were set, my career getting into place, and my application to the Commission has been accepted, so I couldn't be any more excited than I was now.

Or should I say, excited _and_ nervous? I had every reason to be because all my life I waited and worked hard for this, and I have no idea what to expect given outside classroom in youth was nothing compared to what really awaited me out in the universe.

I breathed the smell of the air, of the flowers and wildlife, then allowed myself to fall back onto the grass to let myself be blinded by the sun. My uniform was abandoned for now, replaced with a loose cotton dress of light pink, hanging off my body, and my long raven hair was left wild; I rarely let my hair down, because it always got in my way. Beneath, I was devoid of underwear because I wanted to breath. Closing my eyes, I inhaled through my nose and spread my limbs out on either side. Now, I felt the wind pick up, and the fabric slightly lifted off my body to caress my skin. My breasts chilled until the peaks turned hard, and the apex of my legs sensitized and throbbed because it was allowed to inhale the oxygen...

"Jadzia!"

I jolted upwards, the back of my head and neck warm and swirling with my billowing mane now as I looked around, blinking away the whiteness until I saw the familiar face of my little sister who was like my best friend. Ziranne was striving to become an artist, having been accepted into the best art school. When we were children, we always did each other's homework. However despite our age differences, I knew I was the more shy one than she ever was.

"I thought I'd find you here," Ziranne said as she plopped herself down beside me. "I wanted to know if you wanted to head to the Baths today."

I couldn't help but laugh. The Hoobishan Baths I was often dragged to from my studies in teenage years, and while I enjoyed them, I knew I had to get back to work. Time and time again I'd be pressured to focus on life instead of pleasure, but how insane could you get when you work too much? I have learned the hard way, but there's always more to come.

Seeing the look on my face, my sister quickly changed the topic. "Or better yet, we'll head down to the beach, watch the water turn purple when the sun goes down..."

Trill was known to have oceans all over, and from space, the purple could be seen in the water. I'd had a glimpse myself upon coming home and realizing how beautiful it was from space as it was on land. I had one more day and then tomorrow I would be at the Commission to meet with whoever my field docent would be, so I wanted it to be worth it. "No," I said, "let's hit the Baths." Nothing but a good old massage and a dip into the pool, to indulge and pass out only to wake up and head to the transport.

We were in our suits and wraps in no time, just looking to have fun for today. Soon I would be off to get one more thing I wanted, and let's see how my baby sister would fare with hers. She was smart, but she wasn't as...ambitious as I was. We were both raised by our father Kela after he and Mother divorced, although our uncle was the one we spent the majority with.

We were led into one of the many rooms, where steam was blowing, and it was just us girls to enjoy the privacy - or so we both thought.

"Well, young ladies. I thought I'd have this alone for the day."

Ziranne and I were startled together by the voice of a _man_ in the room. We'd had thought we would be alone. But as soon as the steam cleared, there was a man of elderly years. Judging by the looks of him, he was one of us, for he had the darker, larger spots of the male side of our people. He had white hair, a nicely wizened face and a charming smile - but the look in his eyes made me feel a little unnerved, but I couldn't look at my sister to see if she was feeling the same.

"Well," I said nervously, clasping my hands together, "I'm off to the Symbiosis Commission tomorrow, so we are spending today here before I leave."

"Ah." He chuckled. "A newcomer, eh?"

He was being polite and curious, but something about him was beginning to set me off. I didn't quite feel...comfortable. A part of me wanted to bring my sister out of here, but I could see he wasn't a predator of any form. "I'm going to be," I answered; upon feeling Ziranne's hand on my arm, I looked down at her.

"Jadzia, I think we should leave," she whispered harshly, but the man heard her.

"Relax, my dear. I'm not going to harm either of you."

Now that I was looking at him closely, some part of my mind was nagging that I had seen him somewhere. I KNOW I did, because there was nothing I never did research on. "Then who are you?" I asked carefully, pulling my wrap around myself more tightly and suddenly feeling vulnerable.

He smiled. He was sitting across the room from us, steam hissing upwards and thickening only to soften again. "You girls don't recognize me?" he questioned, still overtly polite. He then laughed. "I'm Curzon Dax, the man who secured the peace between the Federation and the Klingons."

I don't even know how to describe what I was feeling next, nor did I know what to think, but I knew one thing for sure: I was overwhelmed and suddenly intimidated more than ever now that I'd met the legendary ambassador to the Klingon Empire, the man who spent more time with the former enemies of the Federation and secured the bridge to peace.

~o~

I am not sure if I have the smartest words to describe how I felt when I met with the Symbiosis Commission Council and looked them all in the eyes, seeing the stern eyes and emotionless faces of the ones who beheld me as they did other initiates before me, and more to follow my turn. I, Jadzia Idaris, was more nervous than I could remember, but I also knew I had to be strong. I always liked being challenged, but maybe I could be taking it too far.

This was where I would spend the majority of the program and my training. Passion and dedication, nothing else; that was all that was required of me, and I was determined more than ever to do whatever it took to succeed. And if anyone is wondering the identity of the host of the symbiont I was a candidate to join -

 _Curzon Dax._

I couldn't believe it, as I did my best to contain my excitement as I was told who the field docent was. Of all places I first met the notorious representative, it was at the Hoobishan Baths where he had been taking a break himself. Such powerful men could have the time they wanted for activities like that. Now that I thought of it, maybe I should feel more awkward than ever, but hopefully it would change as I would get to know him over the two-week course I would have with him soon.

I was dismissed from the circle afterwards, feeling the weight leave momentarily only to return as I found myself face-to-face with the man himself. Dax looked me down again, this time with a friendly smile that soon changed to an expression no different than the council members of the Commission. "Jadzia."

"Ambassador Dax," I answered, happy my voice remained steady, and then he chuckled. His swings were making me baffled by the second.

"You can call me Curzon, dear."

To say his name made me feel a little more friendly, but I still had no idea what was in store for me. "Curzon," I answered, "when do we begin?"

His hand came over to rest on my shoulder. Some of my hair which was held back was brushed by his finger, and briefly made in contact with the skin of my neck. The sensation made me shiver a bit. "Very soon," he answered, "but it won't be child's play for you, little girl. This journey will prove to be even more difficult than you may think. You've had my interest since yesterday, but it's only just begun. You have yet to prove to me you truly are capable of one day becoming Jadzia _Dax_."

 **From here on, each chapter and their content is named after and inspired by songs of one of my favorite artists, Enya. Just like one of my Re-Animator fics, "Bleeding Rose", had chapters all named after and inspired by Evanescence songs. :)**

 **The information about Jadzia's family came from "Nine Lives of Dax" as well as talking to friends and fellow fans of Jadzia. Since she is un-joined as of now, she's the shy and studious one mildly different from the one we know from the show. As we know from "Facets" near the end of season 3, Curzon really did intimidate her, but she also did look up to him as a teacher, never knowing until when he was joined with Odo why he washed her from the initiation program. Their relationship is going to be explored more in here, with elements of the show as I said before.**

 **Reviews one hundred and ten percent appreciated over the course. :)**


	2. Anywhere Is

**It was mentioned in the DS9 episode "Dramatis Personae" that Jadzia told Kira a story of how she and Curzon once met a group of hostile Kaleans on a planet called Rochani III, but never further explored. It's been difficult to continue this chapter as it needs to work without being tossed together just like that. It even begs a reason WHY the duo was there to begin with.**

Chapter Two

Anywhere Is

It's been three days since I met and was handed to the great Curzon Dax, and I was on my way with him back to a planet called Rochani III to settle disputes between the Federation and a people called the Kaleans who were known to be very hostile. I'd met numerous unpleasant people on assignments and my internships taken, but the Kaleans seemed very interesting - in my mind at least. But Curzon, of course, reminded me to not take it lightly just because I enjoyed challenge as much as he always did.

I rolled my eyes when he spoke to me. I was just getting to know him, and this was the third day in space with him, and already I wondered if he was like this with everyone. "Let's say you are not the first initiate I have come in contact with," he told me casually when I asked him, and instead of answering with words, I nodded and looked down back at the console of his runabout. Arguing with him would be pointless, and I knew it well. Fighting with your superiors, questioning them bluntly, never ended well. To become qualified for joining with Dax one day, I had to do this careful with Curzon.

I can never get over feeling overwhelmed being in his presence; the fact I had known his history since my younger years was what enhanced the feeling. Perhaps I could get a chance to visit Qo'noS - the Klingon homeworld - with him, see what it was like.

"If it's not going to trouble your concentration, Jadzia," he said after awhile, smiling and making me blush, "I will turn on some of my wondrous tunes for you. Space can be rather...uncomfortably boring at times, is it not?"

I laughed a little. "It is. What do you have?"

Klingon opera was not much different from Terran form, given its passionate themes were often of great love and battles in every form usually ended in tragedy but was still worth it in the end. I've been known to enjoy music when I needed stress relief, so I could not say no to this. Curzon introduced me to great musicians like Barak-Kadan, and one such opera called _Shevok'tah gish._ The former had a powerful voice that I don't think I could ever recall such superiority in my life - and I felt myself being drawn in every sense of it. By the time the tune was over, I found myself crying.

Curzon had the nerve to laugh at my tears. "No one like this one ever," he said, "but there is one common complaint about him. His voice style never varies from performance to performance."

Now that he said it, I found myself agreeing after having just heard this. "I've always been drawn into Klingon history and culture," I told him, after recalibrating the sensors, "but to actually meet a Klingon might be exciting." I timidly looked up at him and offered a crooked grin, but he didn't return it.

"Believe me, given I have spent more time around them than anyone else, it's exciting, yes. But it's not easy as you or anyone else unfamiliar may think, Jadzia. I was not much younger than you are now when I first arrived at Qo'noS, before I was elected to secure the bridge that was the Khitomer Accords. I was...uneasy, for lack of a better word. I had always been into a fight as a younger man, and with the Klingons, it was a far more brutal knowledge to achieve. Blood spilled, bones broken, and honor being a centuries-old carrier amongst an entire people. Ensign Idaris -" Now we were back on formal terms. "- if I ever deem you as befitting to take Dax when my time is up, you have to learn the ways of the Klingon and harmonize as I have."

I lowered my eyes. "I understand, sir," I said softly.

"I see you mean well, but you will truly understand one day."

I loathed the fact he was treating me like a child, but being a grown woman now - and knowing damned well I was - I had to know he was doing this to test me and further myself. I could please him at times, but I should learn to stand up for myself when the time came. Right now, on the third day, I had done so much. And little did I know...

Now we were being hailed - and I was surprised to know it was a Klingon transmission. "Onscreen, Ensign," Curzon told me, and I opened the channel to see the face of an old _Klingon warrior._ My first time meeting one face-to-face if not in person. And Curzon was beyond pleased to see this face. "Ah, Kor, it's been a long time, old friend."

 _"Dax, you old_ grishnar _cat, it has been!"_ the Klingon guffawed. _"By Kahless, I was about to pop open the blood wine for us all, but Koloth insisted I save the latest barrel for you."_ Dax shook his head, rumbling in his throat.

"My friend, you and your drunken habits have not changed a bit, have they? I have the feeling this is not merely a social call," he said.

 _"Afraid not."_ Kor's face fell. _"Kang, Koloth and I would be honored for the four of us to make the reunion."_

The entire time I was listening to the conversation between the two men, I let my mind also wander to the known history of the Federation-Klingon War, and the infamous _Dahar_ Master Kor, the last of his House, along with his comrades Kang and Koloth whom he spoke of. First Curzon Dax, and now these three...I had met so many great faces thus far, and now it was becoming overwhelming that I knew I could not get carried away.

"I'd be honored to reunite with my brothers-in-arms," Curzon said, pulling me from my mulling, "but I have a negotiation to settle first."

 _"Indeed, and I would not keep you from it, my friend."_ I could have sworn I jumped when Kor's attention shifted to me, and he chuckled deeply. _"Ahh, who is this charming lady, Curzon? A new one for your bed?"_ I gasped but held it in, instead sitting higher. He thought I was a lover of Dax, and a part of me was greatly offended. Curzon held his hand up to me to keep calm when he responded.

"Kor, that is not gracious to talk about a woman like that. And no, she is not my lover. This is Ensign Jadzia Idaris, my new...apprentice."

I finally had it in me to smile when he continued to guffaw at me, obviously because he found it amusing that a young Trill woman was Curzon Dax's apprentice and trainee. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Kor," I said, "and what an honor as it is to be under the wisdom and guidance of Ambassador Dax." Perhaps I spoke TOO formally, but when I stole a glance at him, he was chuckling. I relaxed a little.

"So, friend," he said, "what is this situation?"

The easy air vanished as quickly as it came.

 _"We have found the Albino, Curzon."_

~o~

"The Albino," I repeated as soon as the transmission ended. We were still on our way to our intended destination, to begin the settlements, but after hearing the entire conversation and the decision to return to the Klingon homeworld soon, I saw that the toll was written in Curzon's face.

He nodded brusquely. "Our sworn enemy who destroyed the lives of us all," he said gravely. "Especially when he took the life of my godson - Kang's son, whom he named after me."

I gave him a soft smile even though it was hard. "Curzon, was it?" I asked.

"Dax," he corrected, not looking at me. "It was an honor for such a namesake."

"Tell me about the Albino." I already knew the story, but I still wanted to hear from his own lips. He sighed and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, one of the worst enemies against the Federation and Klingon colonies in existence, and no one was safe from him - as you know," he said, finally looking at me and giving that look. "That is, until my friends - Kor, Kang and Koloth - banded together and destroyed enough of what he had to weaken him and take in every one of his renegades. However...the Albino fled, but not before he swore against the three most powerful Klingon warriors for ruining him. The pirate he was, he infected the firstborn sons of each of my friends - and one of them being my namesake, Kang's son." He stopped there, and this was the first time I saw the mighty Curzon Dax's lips quiver as he fought back his emotions. "And for that," he said, clearing his throat, "we took our blood oath to one day reunite once we found him as soon as he reemerged."

Oh, blood oaths could never be broken. Not any form, especially when they involved revenge for any wrongdoing. All of this had happened not even eighty years ago, and now their worst enemy had returned. I was not sure now where they would be going with this, or what _I_ would do now. My new mentor had been contacted by old friends that the time had come for them, and for that, I was afraid. For Curzon and all three great warriors I knew only from history. And the way Curzon spoke next added to it.

"We promised each other that someday we would tear out that monster's heart and then feast on it before his still-living eyes. A sight you yourself would faint from."

~o~

I know I said before that the Kaleans were hostile, and they certainly were. When Curzon and I continued our assignment, we were less than treated fairly, but they did let us go. I admit I was a little intimidated by them, but Curzon was there as he was the man who took charge and so I followed his lead.

"You were impressive," he praised me as soon as we were back on the ship and on our way to the next stop: Qo'noS. The home of the Klingons. The Klingons weren't bad as the Kaleans, but they did enjoy blood and combat. Something I myself was not entirely made for as I had no true military experience unlike Curzon.

"Thank you," I said sweetly, feeling proud of myself. But it still left the big question: "But what will happen now? You're off to rejoin your friends, but what about me?"

He inhaled through his nose. "You will be off the assignment and on temporary leave for the time being."

I gaped at him, feeling my body crack in and out. He - Curzon - he was telling me he had put me ON TEMPORARY LEAVE?! "Why?" I managed, unable to think of an insult to say, given I was suddenly angry. He was putting me into hiding as though I were some helpless damsel when I was a promising young officer under his wing!

"Because it's for your own protection," Curzon answered matter-of-factly, "and I can't have the Albino take your life if I bring you along. Given that I know this man more than you, and your life is more precious than mine."

I wanted so much to explode, and he sensed it all. "Jadzia, it's an order," he said firmly, and that was what stopped me. He was giving me an order as the final touch; looking into his eyes, I saw that there was more than just him being my commanding officer and field docent. He actually was concerned for me, but WHY?

Unfortunately, I could not get the answer because I reluctantly - and begrudgingly - agreed to stay on Qo'noS as this was the other reason we were heading there. "How long will it be?" I asked.

"However it needs to be."

I turned away from him and sighed heavily. This had only gotten more challenging and wrenching to the guts than I thought.

Why was it that every moment I spent, every day that passed, was always a wave of moments that just enjoyed playing cruel tricks on me? Everything moved past me like ocean waves, just splashing me around for their own amusement and testing me to see if I could survive. Now I couldn't help but wonder, as I stared ahead at the stars through the window, if I end up losing my way for sure. Curzon putting me on leave had to be a sign of it, and I wouldn't play a fool and think otherwise.

"You're more fragile than I am," Curzon said as we neared our destination, getting at warp six, "but you might find it more enjoyable than you thought. You do want to prove you are a worthy successor, don't you?" He was testing me again, and I was gonna let him think again.

"Yes, Curzon. I want to learn how to live amongst Klingons, no matter how uneasy it is." I looked back out the window to gaze at the stars and streaks of light to pass us by.

"Oh, my dear, it's more than uneasy," he promised me. "The Klingons might respect you, but when it comes to any provoked combat, you won't stand a chance."

When we finally reached Qo'noS, I gaped at the sight. It was...beautiful in its own way. Mountains and valleys, and I could have sworn I saw deserted ruins in the distances beyond. The architecture was reminiscent of ancient times, given the Empire was born at the hands of the legendary Kahless who was a god in their eyes.

The Klingons were time-honored with their tastefully sharp architecture and temples. The flags were passionately powerful with the symbols of valor, the color scheme about dominated by red, the color of blood, rage, fire and all things fierce. I'd taken a step in a new realm that existed only in my imagination - and I knew then and there that the adventure had truly begun.

 **I'm so sorry it took so longer than expected. Internet was down, but I had time to do chapter 3 which is coming soon. :) With that said, in case no one knew, Worf's personal favorite of Klingon opera was Barak-Kadan, and I'd thought it'd be funny to include** _ **Shevok'tah gish,**_ **which Ezri had thought he'd sung before she rescued him from the Badlands in season 7's "Penumbra".**

 **I originally wanted one particular conflict for Curzon to be based off of his mentioned history in "Dax" from season 1, but in terms of brainstorming before I began this story, it wasn't working out - until I remembered the epic "Blood Oath" which hit home. :)**

 **Now Jadzia is on the verge of having something else added to her un-joined life that she NEVER expected. Stay tuned!**


	3. The Gates of Qo'noS

**The song by Enya was actually named "The Loxian Gate", and the lyrics were symbolic of Klingon culture and very spiritual.**

Chapter Three

The Gates of Qo'noS

To step through the doors of the First City Hall - I felt like I was a peasant coming to stand before the king after requesting an audience. Or should I say, I felt like I was the lowly assistant of the most powerful ally of the Klingon Empire?

Chancellor Gowron was the most powerful man to stand before, even as he sat on his throne in fur and steel, robed in regality that I nearly sank to my knees, if not for the fact Curzon helped me stand with his hand behind my back, his other behind his own to hold his poise. Somehow, the feeling of the gesture was strangely comforting in this blood-lusting environment.

"Curzon Dax, to think I never thought I would see you again so soon," Gowron stated as he raised his hand as the honorable gesture in the air, then placed it over his breastbone. Curzon imitated the gesture and bowed his head forward.

"It's an honor to stand before you once again, Chancellor," he answered solemnly. "If only it was a mere social call. I am only here in the gravest of circumstances."

The chancellor hissed and reared his head backwards. "Indeed...an old enemy of yours has returned to the surface. The Albino is a man without honor. Who would have thought that you'd abandon your post for the time being and embark on a thirsty manhunt with three of the greatest warriors in my ranks who hold a place in the high history of the Klingon Empire," he recited, closing his eyes and letting loose a series of snarls. I knew from my research on this man that his military experience - given that was what his people's history was all about - was not as high as the great Kahless, but who was I to question him? Who was _anyone_ to question him?

"This is my initiate, Jadzia Idaris, Starfleet ensign and one of the brightest," Curzon went on, gesturing for me to step forward. "She is contended in my book to one day become my successor, but due to recent events, I cannot have her involved in my new mission which will have her life threatened. I ask that she is placed under protection of one of your best, Chancellor."

I did my best to not look at him, did my best to control my rage. I wanted to tell him I wasn't some fairytale princess who needed protection, but here I was in front of one of the greatest men as well as several armored soldiers at his command. Curzon knew what he was doing as he knew what he had done with these Klingons decades ago. Gowron himself was looking at me now, his face unreadable and very tense without words to explain. He looked me over as though I was a targ he was intent to tame with his own hands. And then his face split into a broad, toothy smile. "Interesting that you entrust such a young woman of your own into the hands of the Empire, while you go off into honorable battle," he said, standing from his throne and going to stand before us - namely me, the young woman as he put it. I lifted my chin up at him, smiling at him now. "Jadzia." The way he spoke my name sounded like a caress to his tongue, but it was nothing more than a serpent's hiss to my senses. "Let's hope one day she lives up to your legacy - IF you see her fit," Gowron added as he looked back at Dax.

Curzon sounded so sure of himself. "I do, too, Gowron, but for now, her safety concerns me. I do not intend to drop her as I have done so to many others before her."

I closed my eyes briefly before reopening them. Two hundred years and fifty-seven - about - initiates broken down by Dax, and I had been hoping I would not be the latest. "It would indeed be ashamed to have such a prize would be released from her full potential, my friend," Gowron stated, raising a hand and placing it under my chin. Somehow, I did not like the feel of it, nor did I appreciate being spoken about nearly the same way Curzon did.

"She's not a prize," I heard him say coolly, cordially, and I turned to look at him to see him giving me a secret, small smile. _Defending_ me and my honor, which I found myself grateful for. "She's a formidable woman, and even though she is still young and with more to learn, I believe she will one day amount to something."

~o~

I know I won't ever forget the way Curzon Dax stood up for me, defended me that way. I still don't understand why he was doing this, but I knew I wouldn't be stupid and think he wanted to put me down. For the Dax who was known to crack down and belittle his initiates - I don't know if I will ever figure this out with ME.

One thing was for sure: he was treating me differently than he must have others before me.

"How long will you be gone, Curzon?" I asked him when we exited the hall, and I would be taken to the home of one of his greatest warriors - one General Martok of the Ketha Province. Those lowlands were agricultural, so this renowned fighter must have been a farmer by birth, but that was only a guess until interesting research. I must confess I enjoy looking into other people's histories to get to know them better.

"However long it will be, like I said before," he answered, getting into the back of the transport vehicle with me. "But first I have to see to it that you are well accommodated before I take my leave to Secarus IV. The Albino will not run from us, I know it."

I clasped my hands in front of me, feeling the perspiration come from the inside. I don't believe I ever recalled feeling so nervous before I met Curzon Dax; it was because I had no idea what to expect of the living of the House of Martok. Gowron had said the general was off-planet for the time being, but his wife, the Lady of the House, would make sure I would be well-cared for and was more than welcome to assist her if I wanted to - and if she saw me fit, of course. Klingon women were also known as the partners in battle, the mothers of any children produced. And since I was not oblivious to the fact the Klingons cherished bloodwine and parties, songs of victory, the women were as much fun to party. Maybe if I wasn't needed at times, I could relieve myself with this "fun".

As it turned out, General Martok now resided in the capital city, but near the wildlife surrounding; I thought perhaps it was ironic given that he was of impoverished origins, just to feel closer to home. But his wife? "Sirella is of noble birth," Curzon explained to me, smiling, "and one interesting fact is that she descends from the daughter of the second and last Emperor of the Second Dynasty." We eventually went on to talk about this Emperor Reclaw II, notably about how a coup d'état led by his once trusted General K'Trelan took him down, and left his family low for the next ten years, a new group of Klingons were elected by the people coming into the "Dark Time". This was the first and only time the people ruled the Empire.

However, I found myself pondering this Sirella, daughter of Linkassa - and supposed descendent of Shenara, daughter of Emperor Reclaw. Usually when a great ruler was assassinated, his entire family would be put to death. I should look into this when she wasn't looking just to make sure I wasn't purely speculating.

We were informed some time later that we had arrived at our destination. I looked upon the impressive structure, in awe and in disbelief that one could rise from humble origins to become great. Curzon himself had come from such roots, as did I. If he and Martok could, then so could I. Our gruff Klingon driver let us both out and allowed us to lead the way. Standing in the doorway of the entrance was a woman of grandeur and an air of pride and arrogance about her. Her smile was in no way warm, but welcoming anyways.

"Curzon Dax, what an honor."

"Lady Sirella, I presume?" he responded, bowing his head forward once.

"Imagine my surprise when Gowron contacted me and informed me you were coming to my humble home," the lady went on cordially, her stance unchanged - and ignoring me entirely, which put me down. "And the reason for your visit which...intrigues me."

Curzon laughed and beckoned me forward. Obediently and silently, I stepped forth and raised my head high, finally smiling. However, when Sirella beheld me with her eyes, it was criticism and curiosity in one. "This is Ensign Idaris, my initiate and someday successor," he stated warmly.

"My lady," I said, following the ritual of bowing my head once.

"Ensign," she repeated, "or do you prefer Jadzia?"

I told her she could call me Jadzia on informal terms, and Ensign if she needed to, as politely as I could, and she nodded her impression, though the coolness in her demeanor was obvious. She had to be like this with everyone. "My lady, if I may inquire if your husband is home?" Curzon questioned.

"He is away for the time being, Ambassador," she responded, taking a step back and gesturing us both with her left hand. "I will do the honors of welcoming you both into my house."

Looking around, I was thoroughly impressed with the home. I don't know for sure how Klingon homes are well-kept as this one appeared to be, but did Lady Sirella manage on her own without the need for servants? Prideful women often took matters into their own hands. I spotted blooming flowers towering from vases, but I didn't recognize what species given we moved at haste. Candles were placed about on display, as were figures of great heroes, tapestries...

"Have a seat, the both of you," Sirella ordered as we all came into the sitting room. She shouted an order in her native tongue to an unseen servant, then returned to us. "Would you both care for firewine?"

"Sounds reasonable, given Jadzia is yet to get accustomed to the foods and beverages of your people, so bloodwine is out of the question for the time being." Indeed, I knew bloodwine was preferred, but that did not tell me what _firewine_ was. I had not yet said a word to the lady, whose attention shifted back to me.

"Tell me about yourself, Jadzia."

I sat up straighter, looking her square in the eyes and once more seeing no change, but I answered. "I graduated Starfleet Academy and am now in the science field, my lady. I have several interests in many subjects, and history is one of them. And I look forward to getting to know your people as my mentor has," I added, jerking my head gently in his direction without looking at him. But Sirella, though nodding, wasn't hinged.

"An intelligent brain is well sought, but amongst my people, the body and courage is more accepted. Which I am not seeing in your physicality." Her sharp eyes traveled over my body and posture, and I felt myself shrink. "Whatever quest you will seek will not be child's play."

"Precisely what I told her the moment I laid my eyes on her, Sirella," Curzon said, at the same time the firewine arrived. When I accepted my goblet after him, I peered in and saw a fluid matching the gold of the container. It smelled strongly of spice, and when I brought the rim to my lips, they tingled, and the taste burst on my tongue and all over in my mouth. My insides burned; the flavor in the aftermath was sheer fire. Afterwards, it was a tangy sweetness I enjoyed. The bloodwine I would try next would not compare to this.

"I really am prepared to learn, Lady Sirella," I insisted.

She huffed. "I doubt it, girl. If my son were here now, he would have challenged you because you are the...apprentice of the man who led our people to peace. A fragile creature like yourself would never stand a chance against him without proper training, which I happen to doubt as well. Curzon, have you the chance to train her in the ways of the arts?" she questioned.

He shook his head. "Not yet, but I did intend to - until recent events. But I shall leave it to you while I am away. I pray it will not be long...but the chance would be that I could die while I am with three of my greatest friends whose sons deserve the honor of their murderer slain at last."

Sirella sneered. "The Albino, ha! Dishonorable he is. And you can't take this one with you?" She let go of her goblet and gestured to me with a flicking finger. I felt like I was being left out.

"Not to risk her life, no. If she is to become Dax when I am gone, if she proves herself worthy, then I am to keep her safe here with those I trust. Can I entrust you and the general, lady?" There was an almost pleading hint in his voice despite his calm exterior, one that the even Sirella could not ignore.

"Very well." Her sigh was almost inaudible and unseen. "Jadzia will remain with our House until your mission is completed. We'll see to it."

"Then it is settled." With that, Curzon Dax arose, and I followed him, but he turned me to face him, hands on my forearms and keeping me in place as he forced me to look him in the eyes. "Remember what we discussed, my dear?" he asked softly. I nodded, and he smiled. "Make me proud and I will keep you amongst the top - and I will do my best to not be killed and come back for you."

However it would be, I had no idea what to do if he died before I returned to Starfleet and the Symbiosis Commission. I just hope my future would not end before it began to live. You may lose one battle, but the war was far from over.

~o~

Klingon living was by no means pleasant. Everywhere I looked, I felt heat and rough furnishings when I glimpsed them. Even my bed was serving as a slab in a cell rather than a pleasant end of the day rest. But Klingons were not pleasure-givers, Sirella reminded me.

"Your worthiness to become Jadzia Dax one day in question," she mused, half to me and half to herself, standing beside me. "I can certainly see why: a competent, intelligent girl with the timidity of a young animal." I turned my head halfway around and could not help but clench my jaw. Now that my mentor was gone, the man who negotiated the Khitomer Accords before I was born, she could insult me any time she wanted. I might be Curzon Dax's initiate, hopeful to carry his legacy one day - maybe, but my hopes would not dampen - but I wasn't him.

"I won't disappoint you in any way, Sirella," I ground out, clenching my fists. "What do you want me to do in order to prove it?"

She snorted. "For now, I'll settle on you enjoying your first night, freshen yourself up and join me at the dinner feast in three hours. I do not tolerate tardiness, however." She turned to leave, but paused halfway. "You can languish in the bath however long you wish, but do not stay in long enough to lose your precious flesh." I cringed at the term of phrase but did not let her see it. Sirella said no more and left me alone. It was going to be a long time to earn that woman's favor if I was going to live in her house.

My new garments would not yet arrive for some time to come; Sirella had a personal tailor of her own, but for now, I was given a remarkable dress uniform for dinner. The tunic was an elegant, exotic print with billowing sleeves and a slightly plunging neckline, the trousers tight brown leather and with matching boots reaching my knees. But first, a bath was in order. The tub was constructed of exquisite river rocks, the water steaming and floating about the room, surrounded with lit candles. I stared at the sight, nervous because Sirella's words came back, but I needed to be clean if I wanted to impress Lady Sirella - and any other guests she could have invited and didn't tell me. I wasn't going to take any chances.

My uniform gone and my hair let out of its clip, I stepped into the water, hissing at the scorch on my naked skin and my spots searing moreso. But once I got used to it, pleasure washed over every inch of my body that I subsided under, then ducked my head without getting my entire head underwater. I don't recall such ferocity when cleansing your body back on Trill. My nipples tightened at the boils. Sitting back up, I allowed myself to be cooled temporarily by the air before picking up what looked like spicy products as well as musk to do the final touches for my hair and skin.

When I was finished, I had no trouble with finding the dining hall, and there was the mistress herself at the head of the great table, where I glimpsed several Klingon dishes, and while some of them looked delicious, others did not, but I smiled respectably and bowed my head. I did learn to speak some Klingonese in school, but I had yet to wholly master. "Thank you for the invitation, Mistress of the House," I said, fluently which pleased her even though her smile was nothing like my own, or even my little sister whom I missed.

"Welcome, my humble guest," she responded, then gestured me to sit to her left. I stood behind the chair but did not sit, as she did not say I could. And then Sirella's attention diverted to the opposite. "Ah, our other guest arrives."

"I anticipated you would have more company," I said, not thinking better of it until it was too late. Her eyes were sharp on me again.

"Did you?"

"Forgive me for being late, Sirella."

"Lady, in front of our new guest," she said sharply, jerking her head in the direction of the speaker - and it was only one. Following her gaze, I thought I would drop at the sight of the Klingon man who had arrived. Vivid amber eyes met my blue ones, mingled with the same surprise as I knew I had, as if he never thought he would see a Trill in his presence...and I could not tell what else I saw in his eyes before Sirella interrupted the voiceless meeting, and our eye contact was severed at once.

 **Firewine was a Klingon beverage, but not explicitly detailed that I had to come up with something definitely in its name. XD And Jadzia is in for hell as she learns how to live amongst Klingons.**


	4. On Your Shore

**Klingon dishes are also interesting but very stomach churning. (sick face) I doubt I would handle it myself if it existed in our time.**

Chapter Four

On Your Shore

After clearing her throat, Sirella introduced us both. "This is Jadzia Idaris, Starfleet officer and an initiate of our own Curzon Dax. Jadzia, I introduce you to -" She paused there, obviously disgusted because of this man. I got the feeling that they were related somehow, and not on pleasant terms. Sirella looked ahead, no longer at either of us.

"Worf," she said at last.

I frowned at her now, wondering why she didn't say what House he was from, if not from Martok's. I began to think he wasn't very...popular, or disgraced. Either way, something told me that he must have done something disapproved of greatly. "Worf," I repeated in acknowledgement, smiling at him - again, he didn't smile back. What was WITH anyone I met not ever being polite as I was to them?

"Ensign." I gulped; I was not expecting the effect his deep, rough voice left on my senses. "I am Worf."

"I believe I cleared that up," Sirella snapped. "Now, let's have a seat now that introductions are out of the way. Jadzia, as the guest, you shall have the selection first."

As I obeyed, I found myself unable to take my eyes off this man - _Worf._ He looked like a Klingon, dressed like a Klingon, but he didn't smile. I wondered if he ever did. I don't know why he interested me so much, but his intensity struck me as... "Ensign." Sirella's sharp tone snapped me to life, and it was back to the Klingon menu before us all, and I no longer paid attention to Worf, who sat across the table from me and on Sirella's right hand side. My stomach churned as I learned what was before me.

For starters, there was _gagh_ , which was an equivalent of worms, always wriggling; it could be served as hot or cold, and I doubted humans would find this appealing - and there was a bigger version of this known as _racht_. Then there was roasted targ, as well as _zilm'kach_ which resembled Terran apricots, but with the pits removed. Vegetable wise, one dish was the dark leafy _gladst_ ; beside it served was bregit lung which I learned was served commonly on Klingon warships.

The seafood courses only just got interesting. Besides octopus legs, there were pipius claws which were equivalents of lobster and crab claws if devoid of shells. These creatures had been around since the dawn of time as other non-humanoid organisms. This particular delicacy was also called "tame" compared to the rest of the living Klingon meals.

"You don't fancy anything?" Sirella questioned, not meant to be nice and daring me. She was testing me again, beginning with the cultural delicacies. If nothing appealed to me, then I would pretend until closed doors.

I hastily reached and picked up the dish of claws, smiling awkwardly. "Not at all," I answered evenly. "Looks...appealing."

She snorted, not believing me and picking up the targ plate to get herself a great portion as she obviously liked targ out of everything else, including _gagh_ and swarming octopus. However, I found it difficult to help myself and as ladylike as I could, given that Worf continued to eye me but not in an offending way. He was just...curious, and I was no therapist. I could already tell he was just as...interested in me.

I found that Klingon food wasn't as bad as I thought it was. The wormlike creatures wiggled in my mouth, and it was so hard not to laugh because of the feeling in my mouth, but at least the meat flavor wasn't as terrible. The claws were to die for, as were the _zilm'kach._ For our beverages, we had a smoking cocktail called a _chech'luth,_ to which I was given a warning by none other than Worf.

"I would be careful if I were you," he told me. "It's highly intoxicating."

"Thanks for the warning," I said sheepishly, bringing it to my lips and taking a small sip. He was right; it was intoxicating. Very strong, but not burning as the firewine. The sensation on my senses was...remarkable that I wanted to fall asleep then and there and dream away...

"I think our guest has had enough," I heard Sirella say, waving away my beverage with a snort of a laugh. "We cannot have anything disastrous on the first night. Jadzia, has it been satisfactory enough?"

"Enough," I answered, dumb for repeating the word, and correcting right away. "It was enough, my lady. Thank you."

Worf elevated his face backwards so his nose was lifted and his chin pointed at me. "Ensign Idaris," he said, but I could not tell if it was meant to respect me or if it was purely in his nature to be professional, "you're not entirely accustomed to the ways of a Klingon." It was a blend of both a question and an answer.

I could see there was no sense in being timid about this. If Sirella knew the truth, then he had to. "Not yet," I answered. "But I am ready to learn, and I like any challenge to come."

Sirella stood from between us, signaling the dinner was over. "I shall be the one to take over," she said, "but it won't be upon me if you fail to surpass, Jadzia. This choice and any more to follow is yours to make. And any failures to make reflects upon your actions." I seethed inside; all of this criticizing my potential was making me angrier than I was before. I was more than ready to get into a fight now; maybe the inner Klingon I never knew I had was threatening to break with a fury. But that would mean broken bones on the first day, which I was not yet ready for.

I found myself looking at Worf again. His eyes were fixated on me as ever, silently telling me that crossing Mistress Sirella would be foolish. I had no idea what to truly think of this Klingon man, but one thing was certain: he was going to make my time here more interesting.

~o~

I was relieved to be away from Sirella now - for the time being, at least. I did not know what to do now, but I knew I could not just sit around. Perhaps I could visit the library for now and enjoy Klingon history, since I needed to catch up for the sake of it. I remembered so many subjects, even going back to the first Kahless himself.

To be in the library section of this great house, I felt a strange source of a sense of comfort to be surrounded by an archive. To be out and having wild fun was out of the question on the first day; to be reprimanded like a child was not something I anticipated, if I made the slightest mistake. I also knew that several Klingons had targs as pets, so I was expecting to encounter one if there was one, but so far no such luck. Targs were ferocious beasts, moreso than Terran boars. Sometimes I wondered why such animals could be tamed to be home pets.

I hated feeling small in this place, but it was the fact that I was still fairly new to this way of life, and knowing my mentor had gone off to face his age-old nemesis with three old brothers-in-arms, and I could not do anything - unless I prepared myself. Sitting like a weak child would not do anything, but just jumping into it right away would be a fool's error, too.

Something told me that Lady Sirella would not be someone I could look up to. But hadn't I already decided this the moment we met? Curzon was not here right now, so if not him and certainly not Sirella, then _who?_

"Ensign."

I whirled around from the collection on the shelf in front of me at the voice who addressed me by my rank. "Worf," I said when I looked down at the floor briefly. "You can call me Jadzia."

He cleared his throat. "If that is what you wish."

Was it my imagination, or was he as...demure as I was? He was not much of anything I expected of a Klingon. His people were very confident, very rough and all things honorable, but he was more restrained in nature. "Worf, may I ask something about you?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest. He took a cautious step back, not giving much of a reaction. His tone, however, betrayed his emotions.

"What is it?"

"What is it about you that I see differently than other Klingons?"

Worf's reaction was less than I expected, too. He remained silent, looking thoughtful as if trying to figure out how to tell me. Then he shook his head, turning his face to the other side. "It's nothing you would understand, Jadzia," he said softly, harshly that it made me step back by one. "I'm not welcome amongst my people because I am nothing like them. I may look like them, live like them, but there are certain things that mark me as the outsider that Sirella herself continues to treat me as."

It took all of my self-control to not gasp. So, he wasn't related to Sirella by any means, but that did not explain - "If I were you, I would not press me with anymore questions," Worf warned, now looking at me with hardened eyes. "Curzon Dax would say the same if he were here now."

"Excuse me," I said angrily, "but why wouldn't I understand you? You're not related to Sirella, are you?"

"No," he said simply. "But I am a...distant relation of her husband, General Martok. The man is an honor to accept me as a part of his family. I am not close to my true parents, Jadzia."

I lowered my eyes, a twinge of sympathy overcoming as I was not sure how to think of this other than to feel said sympathy for this man. I had yet to know more, but he was not keen on discussing it any further. "I will bid you good night, Ensign Idaris," Worf said, turning his back to me. "If you are tired of Sirella, then find me." I stared at him as he left me alone but said nothing. Now I felt nothing but whiplash. First he was rude and distant, now he was telling me to look for him if I could not take the mistress of the house any longer. Now I don't know how I can ever follow this mysterious man.

But, once more, I got this much: he was a loner, an outsider, and with the challenge to find out what lay beneath the exterior.

~o~

When night fell, I lay in bed with a fur blanket to keep myself warm, but I could not say the same for the bed for it lacked the comfort I needed. It did not provide what my bed at home did, or the ones aboard every starship I served, but the fur provided protection against the breezy nights of Qo'noS. I found myself looking at the great doorway which led out onto a balcony and showed the city, then the lands and mountains beyond.

My nightshift was loose, my hair wild with it, and for the moment, I felt like a princess in a palace. This could have been my kingdom, but when the sun rose, it would not be. My mother used to read these stories to Ziranne and I before she left us. She used to keep my hair short because she said long hair got in the way; Ziranne was no exception, either, and she hated it, but I was more dutiful and never complained. However, as we grew, I let my hair grow because my father and uncle said it was wrong for a young lady to be ruled like this. One day looking into my reflection, I saw how right they both were. I was a woman of my own right.

Cool breezes washed over the exposed sections of my body like ocean waves, pulling me from that memory of my youth. It was strange how a simple action of nature could comfort you in a place like this. My heart began to beat rapidly as it thought of how the blue skies would match my eyes as Trill's, but were there any true oceans I would find myself near? If there was seafood served, then a sea would not be out of the question. If I could find myself dipping into the water, watch the sun rise and set over the horizon some day, just to forget about the world momentarily in tranquility only to be interrupted by the calls of battle...

When I went back to bed that night, my dreams were suddenly plagued by a pair of burning amber eyes and a deep voice of courage and intrigue - as well as a handsome face fit for a warrior.

 **So, Worf happens to be a little softer in nature if still kind of gruff and restrained as everyone remembers him. It's not intentional to make him OOC, but the reason will be revealed much later - and it's damned big. ;D No spoilers to give.**


	5. Dark Sky Island

Chapter Five

Dark Sky Island

 _I found myself staring into those eyes - and I felt myself burn under the pressure of the amber orbs. I wanted to break the contact, but it was impossible. I was aware of night air, the splashing of ocean waves and the whisper of nature. But his eyes held me in place, as if he could not get enough of me._

 _"Jadzia." My name was the only thing I would hear from him, and I managed to tear my eyes from his only to admire his chiseled features that somehow seemed more attractive than my own species or maybe even human._

 _I blinked in surprise when his face vanished before my eyes, leaving me with nothing. I wasn't aware if any change occurred until my name was repeated - and this time with a deeper voice that did not belong to HIM._

 _"_ Jadzia _."_

 _I was not sure if I had my voice all along, but to speak it, I did not feel one ounce of dryness. "Who's there?" I called out, finding myself at the top of a mountain - and a mountain surrounded by sea. Calm and at peace for the time being. I was at the top of the world of Qo'noS, and maybe the entire universe, for the stars around me blinked and twinkled around me, lighting the sky with colors of royal blue, dark navy, and pearly black. In response, the ocean below began to swirl and wave as the wind picked up._

 _And then, materializing out of the late night was a pair of eyes of great fire that sent me to my knees in startled surprise. Those eyes - they belonged to a Klingon man, a great warrior who lived long before I did, if I was not hallucinating. I asked again who he was, and he answered without a beat._

"I am Kahless."

 _I felt such heavy washes of bliss that it was as if I was a true Klingon. "Kahless," I repeated, "and no one ever sees the face of a past leader."_

"I show myself only to those truly worthy."

 _I found myself looking briefly at the ground before me, and past it being the edge over the powerful sea waves. "What do you want of me, great Kahless?" I asked, clasping my hands in front of me and anxious in every part of my nervous system. The great Emperor Kahless had come before me, a Trill. But why?_

 _He did not even laugh, or display anything other than authority and guidance in his fierce orbs, two circles of fire that didn't spread to illuminate the sky._ "You, Jadzia Idaris, daughter of Kela, have a vast road ahead of you," _he said._ "It will be long and difficult, but you are not alone. Your honor and courage will be put to the test...Worf will guide you. You are his salvation as he will be yours..."

~o~

When I awoke in the morning, I could not shake away the dream I had - or was it a...vision? I could not have been hallucinating the great Kahless. No Klingon ever did, but to the supposed sane-minded, he or she would have been labeled delusional.

I decided to keep this to myself for the time being. This was my problem to handle on my own, and I doubted Sirella's time would be wasted with trivial dreams. But Worf? After last night, I don't think any chance of comfort is ever possible - but how could I explain what Kahless said, that Worf had a part in some unknown path I have to take?

I'd always thought science was above everything religious, so I could not say I believed in prophecies. But I also knew I was not crazy.

 _You know it's true, Jadzia..._

So, I did hear his voice after all, too. I think I need more time to process all of this. I was not going to do it indoors, since I needed some isolation outside the house. But a tiny part of my common senses warned me to not take the outdoors lightly, but I had my phaser in case any wild beasts tried to come onto me.

It had been a long time since I had free outdoor time, and the sun beat down on my skin and made my spots tingle with my nerves. Hair held up, my body hugged with a vest over my shirt, and all ready to go, I left my room and found my way to the kitchens, wondering if I would be eating with Sirella this morning; she never did mention it, but she was good at catching me.

It was then that I noticed the weaponry decorating the walls - from _bat'leth_ to _kar'takin,_ and the _d'k tahg_ which always bore the crest of a great family; Martok in this case. This was not just for simple show and decorating the house; this proved all Klingon Houses were the same with the "no fear of war" department. War on my part? I did not agree in the slightest.

When I happened upon the sitting room once again, my attention was on the mantle of the fireplace, seeing two _bat'leth_ hanging above. It was impressive. I planned to take one of them and test it, see how I would wield it as a Klingon warrior would. By the looks of them, they appeared to be heavy business. But who cared? I had more muscle on me now than I did in younger years.

 _You must believe in yourself. You can wield the blade of a Klingon as powerfully as I. No better than I, your superior, but you, too, can be great._

I blinked. I have no idea now where this voice was coming from, but this would not be deemed well once I became joined. Host and symbiont should not reject each other, except it was not like I was becoming Dax anytime soon.

I found myself enjoying a _raktajino_ while I was in the kitchens, and there was an overweight male Klingon chef as well as a staff of three women and two men. The chef was really...charming, in his own way, and he insisted I was welcome any time; I might learn to make some of the various cuisines prepared. Afterwards when I bade them good-bye, I was free to roam the house until I found a doorway that led out to the landscape and forestry.

Warm breeze hit my face as soon as I stepped off the stone steps and onto the sweet grass - as sweet as it could get. Wildflowers splashed the green with color, giving this biome a soft serenity to lighten up the majestic scenery. Even though I did not need it right now, I kept my hand on the holster where my phaser pistol was, so I felt safer. I also had to think about what to do if I met barbaric hunters in these woods...

I was keeping track of my steps as well as where I was going as I followed small trails which eventually broke. My tricorder informed me of nearly every life-sign around me in case any came crossing my path, as well as identifying certain flora - and then I heard the noises, following the cracking of branches. Quickly, I put the tricorder to my belt and drew my phaser as I hid behind a tree.

Targ were coming my way.

~o~

If Curzon did teach me anything in the first week we spent, it was to always hold your guard, stay hidden until it was the right time to strike. Sound advice, one I would take today, not that the lesson wasn't new.

Slowly, I peeked around to see the four-legged beasts - three of them, maybe more to come - sniffing the air in search of food. I held my breath as I realized what they could do to ME if they caught my scent. I was too young to die, not that I was afraid. A soldier must always anticipate death approaching and never take it lightly that your time may not come when you expect it. But right now, the sweat breaking out in my skin was infuriating my senses even more.

 _Don't panic. You can fire and run, get away fast._

"Take a deep breath, Jadzia," I whispered to myself, holding the pistol close to my heart, pulling the safety down, hoping no real hunt was in order, and once I had them all distracted, I could -

A collection of snarling snapped my eyes open, and I found myself surrounded by the targ - _every one of them._ Their snouts were tilted upwards and their teeth were bared, their spiked backs menacing as much, and their eyes were fiercely hungry. They were starving for ME. I gulped as I looked at them all bravely while trying to figure out how I was going to start running.

The one to my frontal left pounced first, so I pulled the trigger on it. It fell dead with a defeated roar, and this was my chance to make the run. I avoided a snap of the jaws to my ankle, picking up in a charge that I stepped over grass and earth, fallen parts of trees and stones, but the beasts were catching up to me, on every corner of my trail. They wouldn't stop until they got me. I fired my phaser at any of them, but while I missed at times, I did send them away from me because they appeared to be afraid of fire.

Wait, my mind suddenly said, why should I kill them? I could have just stunned. Why did I forget? A good officer and science student should never forget anything important as this. I quickly changed the setting to stun, and when another targ leaped at me, missing me and its jaws snapping with failure to catch its prey. My heart was beating a thousand times harder and faster now.

I screamed as I found myself knocked off the legs by one of them, and I fell, keeping hold on my weapon and rolling onto my back to fire - but the phaser was knocked out of my hands. I was jumped on top of then, and I was trapped. What was I thinking when I said I could outsmart these things?

Foul breath washed over my senses as fangs were bared, and I closed my eyes, trying not to cry as I braced myself for the inevitable...

And then a mighty war cry broke not only me to attention, but it excited that of the ferocious targs around me. I gasped at the sight of my unlikely rescuer. "Worf!"

"Didn't think I would let you go alone, did you?" he demanded, raising a dagger and then another, showing the targ he was not afraid of them. He had been following me the whole time, but he also did a great job of making sure I did not know. Now I began to wonder more about why I was so interesting to him, but that would have to wait - IF we both go out alive. He bellowed again and threw himself forward, rolling in a circle before resuming battle stance, drawing both blades up at a targ from beneath the belly, drawing howls of painful death.

I let out a scream of my own when I felt my leg being chewed at the upper left thigh. The pain was incredible, but I did pick up my phaser and aim it at the creature's face, smoking it between the eyes. My leg needed tending to, but Klingons were apparently not as good as Trill or Starfleet medical. Nevertheless, it needed looking at - but Worf's as well as my life were between six wild targ.

I picked up myself as I moved to help Worf, firing at the targ on him, stunning them all to the ground. He was left with one more and it had him pinned to the earth, but because his wrist holding one remaining blade was pinned down, he was at the animal's mercy, and further fights brought the snouted face closer to his -

\- and my finger pulled the trigger, polarizing the thing at once. Worf grunted and shoved it off of him and sat up to look at me. I lowered the phaser to my side and smiled; I'd saved both his life and mine. But he still would not smile, and mine was gone as quickly as it came. "Thank you for saving my life?" I asked, but it didn't sway him.

"Did you really think you would last out here when you have no knowledge of the predators in these woods?" he asked as he stood up and walked over to me. I started to limp on my legs but ultimately sat down behind me so he could kneel in front of me and gently grasp my thigh, shaking his head. "This is going to need medical attention."

"Of course," I gasped gently, holding it together.

"I'll take care of this," Worf said, arising and then taking me off guard by scooping me up into his arms, carrying me like a bride as we journeyed on a path back south. "Most of my people are not as...skilled in medicine that the Federation has."

I was on the lookout with my own two eyes in case any more targ came along. But if these beasts could be made into house pets, then they should learn to think twice before they came onto an armed Klingon carrying an injured Trill female. Something told me that I was getting ready to know something new about him, and now. "And you have it?" I teased.

"Yes, and that is what makes me different from other Klingons," Worf said calmly. "I have more medical expertise, and therefore I am called upon on occasion to fix a broken limb, repair any internal damage..." He stopped there as if catching himself why he told me, treating it as a crime committed. Where was the harm in talking to me about this?

I don't know why, but to know Worf was some kind of doctor - was he licensed, actually? - and therefore definitely made him stand apart from the rest of his people was nothing I ever expected to hear. Curzon had said the Klingons might favor battle and glory, but the few you truly identified with had more heart than any other being you would meet in life. Worf certainly was one fine fighter, and he'd saved me from targ; now he was carrying me back to the house to safety. When I was brought in through the doors and set down to walk the way now - supported by him, of course - we were approached by _Sirella_ whom I never even saw coming. Her smile was chilling at its best.

"You had your first taste of the wild," she said. "I trust no permanent damage has been done?"

Her eyes were on the spot in my upper leg where my hand applied pressure, but I was bleeding. There was no warmth or comfort in her gaze, as usual. "It's not like I'll die from it," I answered.

She snorted. "Not without 'proper' care," she said sarcastically, then diverted her attention back to Worf. "Well, it seems you have a new patient to see what your gifts are, if not a true warrior on the battlefield."

I could not stand the way she was treating him anymore. She was meaner than any of the targs I'd faced today. She was also wrong; Worf was a warrior, and there was more to get to know about him. I'd found out only today that he was a...physician. He nodded and grumbled in response before turning to his left and bringing me with him. We were in the infirmary, and I sat on the upward-curved rock slab that was for patients. "So, what _are_ you?" I asked him as I spread my legs; it was not in the inappropriate sense, just so he could examine the job done to me. The pain was still present, but it wasn't terrible. "An unlicensed Klingon doctor?"

I have to say I am so lucky that he doesn't strike, but that look of disapproval did not stop me. "Yes, I am a doctor of sorts," he said as he ran the tricorder to see the extension of the bite into my flesh and muscles. "But as you already know, I am nothing like my people because my mother is distantly related to General Martok. And because of that, Sirella despises me because I am not a true member of the family. She has long been a woman of...strong convictions," he said as he ran analgesics over the exposed wound. I had to take my pants off - yes, I actually took them off because he needed to look closely, and his eyes were not that high to see my underwear spot. He was being respectful of my personal space, which I appreciated.

Nevertheless, I know my cheeks were burning when his hands probed my skin and making sure I could still feel, if my circulation hadn't been cut off. His hands were so strong in appearance and in their meticulous use; they were soft and callous at the same time, and I shivered in spite of myself. Biting my lip and feeling my cheeks burn even higher, I watched him close up the wound with microsutures and then bandaged it. I was thoroughly disappointed that his touch left my skin - wait, _what?_

I had just said to myself that I _ENJOYED_ Worf touching me!

"Jadzia?"

I found my eyes meeting his, and I saw infuriation. "I'm sorry, I zoned for a moment."

He sighed in exasperation. "I would have guessed. Then that means you have not heard me mention that Sirella wouldn't have appreciated non-Klingons marrying into any great family - and hers is included," he said, clenching his jaw. "She despises accepting non-Klingons in general."

So, had I decided to get married and chose this family, she would not accept me as a daughter-in-law. But I had no true desire to get married. "So, Sirella hates you just because your mother isn't Klingon," I said.

"That's right, but there is more, and I cannot tell you everything as it is very...sensitive."

"I see." But that left more questions than answers. I will never get tired of saying this: Worf was not a true Klingon. He had the personality of a human or a Trill, his hands were softer than they should have been - and as precisive as the doctor he said he was - and his mother wasn't Klingon, but it begged how she could be related to General Martok.

Here was what I was going to do: I wasn't going to ask him any more questions straight out, but to see how spending more time around him played out. Whatever Kahless said in my dream, if Worf and I were linked together somehow for whatever reasons, then be damned for just taking it lightly and not doing something about it.


	6. So I Could Find My Way

**Back and better. :D I'd gone through a recent personal loss - not tragic like dying, however - and also published my first Kim Possible short, with another on the way. But that was not all; I've got more interesting mysteries on the way with this new chapter in which Jadzia adjusts to life on Qo'noS while still trying to figure Worf out. As it turns out, he's a somewhat doctor, but the truth will be revealed much later. ;D Twists and turns like I said when we started.**

Chapter Six

So I Could Find My Way

Three weeks went on, and my new life adjusted very interestingly - and painfully - since the targ attack and the revelation Worf was a doctor, and with a human mother. He never mentioned his father, but I won't forget he and his parents were not close. He'd said his history was sensitive, like it was something no one else needed to know, for _what_ reasons?

Like I said before, more questions than answers. As humans said, curiosity killed the cat.

There are many races in the galaxy with more natural curiosity than others, but Trills were a blend of cautious and intrigued. My people are one of the most scientific and biologically driven species in existence. Which was one reason I was driven to the love of science because it was all so fascinating and complicated - but my new challenge came with living with a Klingon man with a brooding attitude and a fantastic knowledge of medicine and surgery, as well as uncovering his mysterious history.

There was a way, but it would be classified as an invasion of privacy, and it certainly would not be easy to access without the occupant's permission...

Right after Worf treated my leg, he had suddenly made the decision to allow me to be his "lab assistant", when he made trips to wounded Klingons brought back home from battle. Also, following the healing, I'd not been able to stop thinking about Worf's hands as he tended to my wound. Searing, soft and rough in one - why couldn't I just forget it? Or should I say, _it_ won't let _me_ go?

I hoped to distract myself with aiding in medical attention, given I took Basic First Aid but wasn't one hundred percent experienced as he was; my hands were good with machinery and calculations, but to actually _cut_ a body open or even remove a body part? I thought I would go queasy, but there were a lot of things Klingon that were not for the faint-hearted. Ziranne would have passed out before I would.

Speaking of which, I had not spoken to anyone in my family since I had been here. I was allowed to communicate from the Martok House, but I could not find any time. My gut clenched as I wondered how my baby sister was doing out of the others. Knowing her flighty personality, she must be hunting for a new man in her life. Something I never gave myself time for.

I was submerged deep in Klingon history today. When I sat down, I found ancient textbooks regarding family histories. One certain topic regarded the story about the assassination of Emperor Reclaw of the Second Dynasty. I intended to clear up what plagued my mind for so long that enough was enough. I had to know if it was really true about Sirella descending from this daughter of a murdered Klingon ruler.

Reclaw's family "left low for the next ten years"? I doubted it very much one hundred and ten percent now.

I had finished reading the story - and oh, man, was I hell-bent on getting more articles on this - when I was once again visited by a certain odd companion I shared the same roof with, if only temporarily. "Is this regarding...Sirella?" Worf asked quietly, leaning over and seeing where I was at. "She will be most displeased once she learns you've...pieced it together."

I raised an eyebrow. "What is it?" He seemed to know more, seemed to have the answers I was looking for. I was ecstatic.

He cleared his throat, continuing to speak low in case anyone - notably the lady herself - heard him. "She's not really of noble blood, at least lineage wise, Jadzia. The woman she thinks of as her...maternal grandmother, twenty-third in line, wasn't really named Shenara, daughter of Emperor Reclaw. Ten years after his family was executed not long after he, Klingons from lesser origins were brought in and replacing the democracy established - and they were given the titles and names of the royal family as to keep alive the illusion that the line was never broken."

I almost dropped the book before my hands quickly found their strength to keep it together and closed it, putting it back with its companions. I was shocked very much; so my suspicions were right. Sirella claimed to have imperial blood, but it had no truth or fact. All Klingons cared about was telling the story without further proof, for their own means and what they thought was best for the people. Sirella was one of them. "What was her ancestor's...real name?" I asked Worf, and he lowered his gaze.

"Karana, who was merely a concubine who lived outside the Imperial Palace, near the stables."

"Oh, yes!" I almost forgot who and where I was, since I now knew the truth and could not help myself. Sirella was actually the great-granddaughter of a Klingon harlot in the streets; to see her rage would be priceless, but Worf insisted I keep it to myself lest I wanted her wrath. "Fine. But to know this marks it even better that she is no better than your mother," I told him. I didn't know his mother, but I knew good and well that Sirella was the bully of them all because she was so proud of herself. How anyone like General Martok could tolerate such a woman was beyond me. But did it matter? I had gotten everything I needed, and I could not have thanked Worf enough.

"What was your purpose in this?" he asked suspiciously, but I smiled at him.

"Why do you think? She's a shrew and deserves a smackdown. You don't deserve the treatment she gives you or anyone else around her, so if I may when the time comes, I'll be the one to ultimately humiliate her."

~o~

Unfortunately, I could not confront Sirella about this soon, nor did I know how to in order to make the circumstances the right time, and it was also because Worf had to insist I not do such a thing. "It's not...honorable to humiliate a great lady about her ancestral roots without logical purpose," he'd said, which infuriated me.

Honorable? It wasn't honorable to pass off noble roots when an ancestor was far from it. But who cared, right? It was only all about storytelling, no basis in the timelines or the archeological examination. Nevertheless, I exhaled sharply and begrudgingly promised Worf I wouldn't do anything extreme...but that did not mean I would not carry out my plan against Sirella.

Now I had the chance to speak to Curzon; one of Sirella's maidservants had approached me and said that Dax was in orbit so he could find the time to speak to me. He was currently over Secarus IV with his companions, but the Albino was GONE. "Gone, how?" I asked worriedly, and he was even more so.

 _"Correction, he is still on Secarus IV, but not in his compound. He is leading us on a hunt, but we're not giving up. He's not leaving the planet or even the system, I can guarantee you that."_

I bowed my head. "I hope you do find him, Curzon."

 _"So do I."_ He sighed. _"He knew we would catch on someday, and he's leading us on a hunt for now, for however longer needed. I'm terribly sorry to tell you this, Ensign."_

That meant after only three weeks, I was stuck here on Qo'noS. Curzon noticed my reaction. _"I detect disappointment in you,"_ he noted.

"No, nothing is wrong here with the Klingons," I assured him, sitting straighter. "It's been...interesting." Interesting because of the history - and one of them being my leverage on Sirella - and being in Worf's company as well as his mysterious, bad attitude air. But beneath that, I saw, was a heart who cared. I knew that because of being his sometimes assistant when he aided the injured and dying. But there was still the issue of me actually learning to fight like a Klingon. Sirella continued to taunt me that I was weak, but Worf was always there for me.

I don't recall any other man in my life who weren't my father and uncle defending my honor, or Curzon Dax for that matter. But while I looked at Curzon as a mentor, Worf was actually beginning to be something along the lines of a... _friend._

He never said so, but I could tell in his eyes that he liked me as well, even if he was covering it well like any man would.

And Curzon's interest was piqued. _"Care to elaborate, my dear?"_

"Well, Sirella isn't exactly the most..." I struggled around my words. "...pleasant woman to be around, Curzon. She might have helped me some, but we barely see each other. She sees me as feeble, that just because I am your student, I won't match up to you," I confessed.

 _"Hmm."_ He raised his hand to his chin and rubbed it thoughtfully. _"Precisely something I would have said at the right time. But even then, words like that are made for a test,"_ he told me.

Now I was baffled, but my inner self said it was true. I was avoiding Sirella because I could not face her, and Worf had told me not to engage her outright for it would end in disaster - but in the end, it was all me. I won't let it overtake me, but I was a coward. I enjoyed history and science, but in the end, I wasn't a true fighter...

...unless I COULD break it down, prove Sirella wrong. My body jerked backwards at the thought. "You're right!" I almost raised my voice, but lowered it quickly. I need to work on this habit more. "I should start being aggressive. I should stand up, pick up a _kar'takin,_ a _bat'leth,_ and all other weaponry so I can become a warrior besides a know-it-all science girl," I declared, standing up and baring my teeth in my speech, to which he returned with a toothy grin of his own.

 _"That's my girl, Jadzia. And I was starting to lose hope in you."_ His eyes twinkled, making me blush. But then the moment changed in a flash. _"I have the slightest feeling Sirella is not the only issue."_

My mind was flashing. I had no idea if I should lie to him and say no, but to lie to the great man in front of me via transmission was wrong, so I confessed. "A few weeks ago, I had a...dream."

 _"A dream?"_ He laughed harshly. _"This is the first I ever hear from you."_

In explicit detail from beginning to end, I told him how I was at the top of the universe on an unidentified mountain, and the great Kahless himself spoke to me from the heavens, telling me without further understanding that I was destined for greatness - and Worf had a part to play in my unknown path. When I finished, he hummed again as he considered this, obviously as puzzled but intrigued as I was. _"Worf - a fascinating character. Would you care to tell me more about him?"_ His lingering grin was that of an adolescent craving for more details that I suddenly wished I hadn't mentioned any of my time with the odd Klingon doctor.

 _"It seems you have an interesting case,"_ he said when I finished. I gasped at him.

"A case of _what_?"

 _"Need I explain? Little is known about Worf in the records of Qo'noS, or anywhere in the Federation, besides the knowledge that he is one of the best Klingon physicians in the galaxy. Everyone knows he is a distant relative of General Martok. I've known all along, given I served with Martok for some time before I met you. Worf is a stranger amongst his people because his mother is a human, but his familial relations are most strained, therefore he hides out amongst his other half. Being marked because of your origins puts a strain on your psyche very much, my dear."_

I closed my eyes and nodded. Worf was an outcast, having difficulty living because of the whispers about him. It dawned on me he never had friends, never had a lady to love, yet had a passion for his work...and my heart broke at once. I felt tears prick the corner of my eyes as I realized I could also do more than just help him.

And that was not all: Curzon was telling me that I was the first one to make me realize that I _could_ help Worf find his way as he would help me.

~o~

The next day I could not delay the beginning of the path to glory any longer. After breakfast in the kitchen and enjoying the company of the cooks, I took it upon myself to make way for the armory which was downstairs below the first floor. There was even a training area, which made it even better. Far from above, away from Sirella's prying eyes and her snide remarks.

I stepped down the stairs, in my tank and elastic trousers, my hair held back as always, and I was surging with fire in my veins. I was determined more than ever. I was also barefoot, which would make my footing that much easier.

Shivering in my bared arms and my feet, I gazed around myself and tried to imagine if there were any hidden Klingons waiting for me. My spine tingled. I don't know anymore if I am nervous, but I had taken several steps too far to come here. Too late to turn back now.

I stood before the collection, illuminated by overhead lighting and held in my gasps as I could no longer be surprised if I was going to familiarize myself with Klingon martial arts. There was one impressive piece of metal that caught my eye right away - right before my very eyes, standing out from the rest. The _bat'leth,_ the most popularly used. Crescent-shaped, measured to be about one hundred and sixteen centimeters long, and weighing at least five-point-three kilograms. The hand grip was five centimeters in diameter, which was good enough for me.

When I held it in both hands, holding it up to weight it on my arms. I exhaled when the powerful weight balanced nicely, the composite _baakonite_ shining bright in my eyes.

"Remember the first _bat'leth_ that Kahless himself forged in the ninth century?" I whirled around and found myself face-to-face with the one I began to welcome as pleasant in my life on this planet. Worf descended the stairs until he stopped at the bottom. "Forged by his own hands, which he used to remove a piece of his hair and tossed it into the Kri'stak volcano pit and molded it into a marvelous blade after he recovered it from the fire and placed into the purifying water of the Lake of Lusor."

"To which he used this great weapon to defeat the monstrous Molor," I recited from the story, holding it before my body to show him I wasn't just a fragile alien woman. I smirked to one corner of my mouth. None of this was actually written in text form, but instead passed orally from generation to generation since. "And the sword was conquered after his death but was lost since."

He stood in front of me, his eyes roaming up and down me. I was impressed with how...passionate he got when we discussed Klingon history. And now he was here to supervise the training Sirella would have given me had we not been on bad terms. He walked past me, but I kept my guard and weapon raised. _Never lower your guard even when your opponent walks past you._

Worf grabbed another _bat'leth_ and raised it in the same stance, speaking something in Klingon that I had no idea what it was exactly, but I knew he was telling me he was ready when I was. I nodded and answered yes in Klingonese, and I was more than ready when I threw myself forward, screaming like a wild animal and bringing the _bat'leth_ down against his.

The sharp slicing of steel against steel coupled with our grunts and growls mixed together were the only sounds in the air as we fought like our lives depended on it. Fire burned in my flesh and blood, my muscles and nerves - and every part of my body in and out, my skin wet with perspiration.

However, as I found myself looking into Worf's eyes - making eye contact with your enemy was always accidental or meant to be as you wanted to see the life leave your opponent - I thought I saw something more than just concern, like he was afraid of hurting me in the end.

I stopped there when the realization hit me with blunt force as one blade mark struck me to my upper left arm, stunning me and sending me down, losing my weapon to the floor. I collapsed, holding my bleeding appendage and looking up at my winning opponent. I knew I would not win as this was only the first time, but I had a good reason to feel good about myself - and how _fluid_ I felt.

Worf was scared of hurting me. And now his reaction proved it.

" _Jadzia_!" He dropped his _bat'leth_ and fell to my side, taking my arm into his hands and inspecting. "We'll pick up tomorrow, but right now I need to inspect this and require you rest your strength."

I grunted and stood up as my legs still had strength. Never disagree with the doctor. I remember when I was a child, I was scared of them. I still feel like that sometimes, but with Worf, I felt safe. "Thanks for the lesson," I told him as I hung my blade back on the racks. He followed suit after me, nodding bluntly.

"I should have gone easy on you." Guilt was clear in his voice, and he bowed his head. "This is why I try not to engage in too many activities like this - or any kind of excitement, no matter Martok bringing me along for his many victory celebrations with his comrades."

My hair was coming undone that I decided that letting it down was logical. My mane ran over my damp shoulders, covering my ears, that his eyes glimmered when he looked up at me. He was not concerned for me just because he was my physician and...friend. He actually _cared_ about me. I'd known him for almost a month, but somehow I felt like I had known him forever. My heart was beating because I still had so much energy - but it was also because of him. He was so restrained I couldn't believe it. I enjoyed fun once in awhile - Curzon himself even said it was necessary once in awhile instead of all work - and the Klingons were boisterous in their victory celebrations, but not this one.

"Worf," I said softly, reaching out to him with my uninjured arm, touching his shoulder, to which he stiffened, "there are some things in life that you can't control. Something tells me that you don't want to hurt...someone you cared about." How else could it be? Even if he didn't have someone to really love him that he didn't want to hurt because of his nature, or if somehow he lived a strict home life before he was "exiled" to Qo'noS...

He didn't answer me, just continued to look into my eyes as I continued to look into his. He was a lost soul I was working to help up even if he didn't ask for it, and he was helping me find my own way. But his words and his demeanor were dismissive as ever. He pulled away from my touch.

"Jadzia, you ought to stop this at once. You will never understand me, and I can't let myself become attached to anything in life besides my work - or anyone, so I cannot lose control and hurt them."

A good dream gone just like that. I don't know if I was crying or not, but my lips quivered with a pain that did not match the one in my bleeding forearm. The blood ran in a river down my bare skin, dripping onto the floor in a single, silent red drop.

 **Inspired by "Let He Who is Without Sin", it's touching when Worf finally opens up to Jadzia about his youth and uncontrollable behavior. Things have been slightly changed, but his fear of losing control is still present. :) Now it's up to the lady herself to get him to come out of his shell.**

 **Thanks to the research I did on the _bat'leth_ and Kahless. **


	7. Solace

Chapter Seven

Solace

I could not take this anymore. My feelings were hurt enough as it was. Worf wouldn't even talk to me, and I was tired of being treated like fine china.

In the several days to follow, he avoided making eye contact with me, but that didn't stop me from looking at him in hopes he would someday soon put his big pants on and _talk to me._

Days prior when he tended to my arm as he did to my leg in the beginning, he tried his best to avoid touching my skin too much, which disappointed me greatly. I don't understand why I feel like this, given I never paid attention to men much. I did notice his fighting technique, too: aggressive, passionate and thirsty - that could be interpreted in many forms besides for blood - but also trying to be careful. Because he cared for injuries daily, he was hesitant about inflicting harm on another.

"I'm not a true soldier," he'd said, "even though I try to be. I loathe being weak, so I trained in the ways of the warrior when I was barely into my young adulthood. Martok showed me. He and my mother were very close despite their differences in bloodline." The time he raised his eyes to meet with mine would be the last time for awhile to look at me when he finished. "But it's another reason I have to refrain true physical harm on another in my care - and on another I dare to have feelings for."

To make things even more interesting, we all received word that _General Martok_ was returning home.

"This house must be prepared for his return," Sirella announced to us all - myself, Worf and the entire staff - when we gathered in the hall. "And after his return, Chancellor Gowron will call for the honor in the Hall to celebrate the victory." Then her eyes shifted to me icily without a blink before she dismissed us all.

I found myself looking after Worf when he turned his back to me and started in the opposite direction. He was leaving back to work; sometimes I wonder if work is all he does, before I mentally slapped myself for thinking so stupidly. Of course, all he does is work, and turns on his favorite operas when I am not around - and one of them happens to be Curzon's favorite Barak-Kadan and some of the others he'd showed to me.

No one was following me, and General Martok would show up tomorrow morning. The servants were busy getting the house ready, and no one was really paying attention to me, even Sirella. And Worf was still avoiding me. I saw this as my chance.

I was going for his rooms.

~o~

Certain rooms and chambers in the house I was not allowed to go to consisted of the master bedchamber as well as the one I was making my way to: Worf's room. Surprisingly enough, his rooms were located on the isolated east section at the topmost level. There was hardly anything or anyone there, but that did not mean this part did not have any grand tapestries and pottery and the likes. There were also great portraits of the ancestors of the couple, the latter being the most recent as I reached the end.

The walls were red, darkening into mahogany as I progressed down the long hallway until I reached the one room that was unlike the other doors not closed and locked. I held my breath as I stood before it. I had not yet faced his wrath, so I was indeed scared if he discovered what I was up to...

Damn it, I wasn't a frightened child anymore!

I asked for the lock to be overrode, then gave my clearance and the door opened. Technology not much different from the Federation's came in handy. But the fact I was now four steps into this place did not make my rapidly pounding heart steady.

I found nothing suspicious about these rooms, other than seeing how immaculate it was despite a male living in here. Bookshelves were stacked rows upon rows with medical knowledge and history as well, some being a collection of tales of chivalry and a couple romances which made me laugh to myself. I could hardly believe this. The only true Klingon décor was the two _bat'leth_ on the wall, but nothing indicating his Klingon half and his father...

He really _was_ alone in this place. But I was not going to cry while I was here.

My attention was diverted to the two _sure_ things on one of the tables beside the couch. While I saw no Klingon portraits save for one of Sirella and a man who had to be her husband, as well as a younger Klingon male who might be their son - not even of Worf himself, but one of two human beings - a man and woman, married obviously. They had to be very important to Worf, but how? Friends?

Another image caught my attention on the other end of the couch. This one was of a young human man...a _handsome one._ My cheeks flushed when I took in the details of his face and the golden skin, his soft waving dark hair and that irresistible smile...but the eyes...

They were _amber...like Worf._

"What are you doing here?!"

I turned around fast and almost screamed when I saw HIM storming my way, and I quickly moved away from the picture of the strange young man at the same time as Worf stalked in front of it and hid it from me with his entire body, turning his head around halfway and growling in his throat, eyes burning lava fire that I wanted to run but couldn't. He barked at me again. "WHY?!"

"I-I'm sorry," I stammered. "I didn't mean any harm..." What could I say now? What could I think? I could do neither at the present.

"I told you not to meddle in this!" he bellowed, turning around entirely and grabbing my forearms, shaking me hard. "Do you realize what could have happened?!"

He wasn't the one whom I began to care about now, but he was a beyond furious monster that I didn't want to be around now, whom I tried to get away from and began to cry in spite of myself. "Please, let me go!" I cried. "I didn't mean to!" Something inside me burst then and there. "I wanted to know about you when you would not tell me a thing!" It made me a little stronger, but it only made his temper worse than before. In response, he let me go but tossed me to the floor. He was not able to control himself at the moment; that Klingon side of him had come out with full fury that I scrambled to my feet before he could grab me again. I was out the door when I heard him roar out after me to keep out.

I don't know what happened, but I knew it was my fault. I shouldn't have gone in there, and now look what happened. I knew he wouldn't go to Lady Sirella, but it wasn't like anything would get better. Not for a long time, I knew.

I just hoped Curzon would be done with his mission soon so he could come and get me and I could get back to my life away from this place. Away from Sirella - away from _Worf._

~o~

I was more heartbroken than ever, as I know I shattered a friendship I had here forever, but I tried to comfort myself with the fact that I wouldn't see him again once Curzon came back, but it would be a much longer time to come, so in the meantime, I was left to suffer internally as I knew I hurt Worf more than he hurt me.

I wanted so much to be comforted, but those I loved were far from me; I also wanted to go back to Worf and get on my knees before him, but I don't think he'd forgive me that easily. I knew that from experience with men. I should keep away from him for as long as it needed to be. But today we would not have that opportunity given the great general himself - and a favorite of Chancellor Gowron's - had arrived today, and everyone had the house ready. I myself was dressed as best as I could be. My dress was fitted to my body, the vest being of fur, and my hair braided tightly as a lady had to formally present herself at her best for events like this.

Even though I didn't look at Worf, would not let him see my pain - not now, at least - I could feel his eyes looking me over from head to toe. I burned beneath his gaze.

 _Don't despair, Jadzia,_ the voice of Kahless spoke from somewhere above me. _The way is always a painful one._

How right those words were, for I agonizingly suppressed the rain that would pour down my cheeks and made me feel weaker than before. Klingons never tolerated weakness, and I wasn't one of them - but I despised it with everything I had. I just wished the way out could be showed so it was done with, but that was never how life was done.

"The general - my husband -" Sirella spoke saucily to us all, standing in front of us all but with her back facing so she could be the first to greet her husband whom she had not seen in many months. "- has arrived."

And so the great man himself arrived, tall and powerfully built, and his wild mane all over the place. I studied his rugged features and suppressed the gasp at the sight of his left eye; there was nothing but closed over flesh, indicating he lost his eye in battle somehow. But he was back and better, ready for a short time's break to spend at home. I knew he was a wonderful hero, but could I see him as someone I could trust?

"My lady," he said gruffly, smiling, as he greeted his shrew of a wife.

"You've put on weight, and your hair is going gray," she answered, making him laugh. The reunion wasn't as...romantic as expected, but after being wed so many years, the spark lessens. He burst out laughing in amusement, replying that his deterioration was proceeding apace, and if it satisfied her, he would die in a year if it would make her happy.

Well, this just gave me a new insight on Klingon mates. They loved violence in their intimate rituals - violence, violence, violence in everything. Try and use blood in the same manner three times fast.

So here is Klingon romance in terms of the stories and in real life: definitely sweet and powerful in the mind and heart, but in your very existence, it was by far more brutal as life itself.

Martok accepted his wife's hand after stepping completely over the threshold of return, then gave his entire attention to the rest of us. "Well, what can I say? It's good to be back after a glorious battle. The enemy did not even stand a chance, and it's one story to tell." When his attention shifted to the man beside me, he roared with proud laughter. "Worf, my friend! Come here, will you?" He extended his strong arms out to which the younger Klingon walked over without a word and let himself be enveloped.

"I am pleased you have not been killed, General," Worf answered with a slight bow to his head.

"And I spared you the trouble of repairing my arm this time!" Martok replied, chuckling in his throat now. I softened a little, seeing he had a great sense of humor unlike the other one - and now I was at the center of his attention. "Ah, Jadzia, if I am not mistaken?"

He was in front of me in a flash, taking me by surprise and catching me into his suffocating embrace. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of my lungs when I tried to gasp for air, choking my own laughter in the process. I could stop my fears of this warrior now that I felt welcomed by him. He set me down, understanding he could not crush a small thing like me, but he really liked me. "And the great Curzon Dax leaves a magnificent creature like you to learn how to live among us, didn't he? I like you already! Worf, you must sit with me tonight and tell me all about this one..."

Sirella huffed, then barked in Klingonese at the servants to get back to business. "I shall leave that to you three, husband," she stated before taking her leave. I was left alone now with General Martok and the man who was not at all pleased to be in my presence as I fared no better when this great man led us both into the sitting room and brought out a bottle of bloodwine.

~o~

Given I was a living member of Martok's house - as a guest - I still had to participate in the victory celebration at the Great Hall. Sirella insisted on me wearing this rather _scandalous_ and uncomfortable garment if I wanted to be there for the support and honor of her husband and his comrades who fought and returned alive alongside him.

I could hardly believe what I had been turned into when I looked at myself in the mirror. The brassiere was harsh metal with exotic swirls, my forearms wrapped with golden snake coils, and my hair was ridiculously braided into a crown. The skirt was slit on both sides so I could move easily; it was made of burgundy silk and reached my ankles, and my boots reached my ankles. I don't even know how to feel other than uncomfortable, which was the best word of choice.

Uncomfortable, rubbing my skin - and yet, I looked like a much stronger woman entirely.

I _felt_ like one.

"Jadzia, you would make a brilliant Klingon woman."

I turned around to see the general himself standing there instead of his wife, to which I was relieved. "Thank you, general," I said, "but I am not deserving of such honorable comments. I'm not a Klingon, so that marks me fragile compared to the rest of you."

He could never stop laughing at me; was it because he wanted to, or because he knew I needed his comic relief? "On the contrary, my girl," he said, walking over and standing beside me. He slapped his gloved hand on my bared shoulder and squeezed it. "I'm nothing like my wife, even though I can't interfere in her domain. Sirella has belittled you, I've seen. She's prideful and arrogant that she takes great pleasure in talking down anyone inferior -" His face split into a toothy grin. "- but that does not mean she can't be struck back."

I scoffed. "If she's like that so much, why did you marry her?" I dared to ask. His smile was gone for a moment before it returned.

"Because even though she fires back at me as well, and I happened to win my share of battles with her as well as allow her to have the upper, final hand...I love Sirella greatly. We Klingons desire honor and glory in battle above all else, but it is never enough without someone to share it with. Honor and prowess in battle can do little for a man or woman alone," he told me tenderly, bringing his other hand to my other shoulder. "Worf has been looking at you in the same manner."

Everything came crashing down then and there.

"Worf!" I drew back, horrified. "But he despises me, general. Has he not told you what I committed recently?" I'd known he'd grown to care for me, but now - he was _in love with me?_ My mind and body - and my heart - were in more turmoil than ever.

"He has, and even though he has yet to speak to you, he regrets how he treated you in response. But he was protecting his territory; sometimes a being can hurt the one they love without realizing it. It's never the first time anytime." Tears pricked my eyes as I could still feel the pain in my arms when he held me and shook me, but it hadn't been his fault. Another person would call it abuse, even the humans, but it was because of my stupid curiosity. "He hides his solitude in his heart but does not do a fine job at it," Martok stated, humming in thought. "You can see it when you look into his eyes."

"Yes," I answered, barely audible to my own ears. "He's been alone - until I came along, general."

"Ah, you may call me Martok from now on, Jadzia. And please, do an old soldier a favor? This road isn't something you should side-step to take the easy way out. You must go to Worf and beg his forgiveness, confront whatever feelings you have for each other sooner rather than later."

 **Jadzia's outfit for the celebration was based off of Princess Leia's metal bikini in "Star Wars Episode 6: Return of the Jedi".**

 **It was incredibly hard to do Worf attacking Jadzia as we have never seen him physically lay a hand on her the way he did in the show. As for the picture of the "strange young man", does anyone have an idea who it might be? ;) Things are getting more interesting.**


	8. Dreams

**So, obviously, Martok is the one who knows how Worf really feels for Jadzia and had it in him to tell her, given the current circumstances between her and her strange "friend". About time, too, given it's also obvious she's drawn to him, too, but doesn't know it. And now she's struggling to see if her feelings match - and hopefully patch it up with Worf soon.**

Chapter Eight

Dreams

Heat in the air. Bonfires were lit within the walls of this temple as I joined the Martok family in the First City Hall. I could never stop thinking about speaking with General Martok about Worf and myself.

Worf was...in love with me. I had no idea what to think of this. Why - _why?_ I don't know where this came from, but he must be a fool to go as far as _this!_ He knew I would go away sometime soon, and the last time we spoke, nothing went well. We had been avoiding each other for a day, and that was not enough time to dwell much on our parts.

I don't know anymore how to feel. Now I wanted to just call Curzon, no matter him still on the hunt for the Albino, and beg him to take me with him. It was better than this. I no longer cared about how he would respond to my childish behavior.

The fire against my skin, product of the atmosphere, made me pour more perspiration. I've grown to welcome it as the stoke to my body's ember cells. I was thirsty, and not only for bloodwine which was sweet and salty despite the pungent aroma. Glancing around, I took in the hilarity of these Klingon warriors with their wild lion manes and brutal guffaws of laughter as they spoke to each other in their native tongue and drank bloodwine. Women were present, too, and they appeared to be a lot of fun to party with them, which made me feel excited now to be here. But there was also Sirella, snide as ever, but she smiled most easily at the other men around her, which Martok did not mind at all.

Worf, however, was not smiling at all, which he was best at doing. I looked at him briefly without turning my face completely around, but upon seeing he was about to turn my way, I quickly adverted my attention ahead. A tiny part of me was hoping he would say something to me, but nothing. I hope Martok was right...

"You look like a goddess."

Gasping internally, keeping my jaw clenched, my head jerked up and I found myself looking at him for the first time. He was _speaking_ to me! I could hardly believe it. "You look like you could be Lukara incarnate," Worf clarified - and now I could have sworn I saw a smile tugging one corner of his mouth that he tightened into his infamous scowl. Nevertheless, something inside me melted because he called me a goddess...and this was his way of telling me he was sorry.

But it wasn't enough. I wanted to do more now, something better than just words. Something to make sure he NEVER laid a hand on me again.

I would get the chance later given I heard the drumbeats played by a quartet of warriors on the other side of the room. It was a wondrous, epic tune that I doubt I would ever forget. A collection of war cries sounded as the beats progressed. I felt a hand on my shoulder as well as the force of being turned around to see Sirella's fiery gaze.

"Remember the dance I taught you - and do not fail when your time comes solo," she hissed under her breath. My rage bubbled back to the surface just like that when I narrowed my eyes back at her - and the words slipped through my lips like the sweet wine going into them.

"Don't count on me failing."

Her hold on me loosened, but the competition remained. I turned my back to her then in time to see the tempo pick up and two young Klingon females dressed as scantily as I leaped into the middle of the room and furiously to the crowd around who shouted to the theme - the Klingon code of honor and life, unquestioned loyalty and dying for your people.

The performance ended, and the applause to burst was monstrous - and monstrous in a positive Klingon point of view. The drums caused my blood to pound, travel to my heart and back out again. I was on fire because of the magic of the music, and I clapped excitedly with everyone else...even Worf.

And then, more drums picked up because of the arrival of the chancellor himself. A collective chant rose to the heavens as their divine ruler joined them all: _"Gowron! Gowron!"_

"Alas, my friends," he called out, raising his hand for all to silence, "tonight we celebrate a great victory for one man who has loyally stood by my side all these years and many a fine others with him, with Kahless himself looking down with his blessings. I raise my bloodwine to Martok, my supreme commander and brother-in-arms!"

Now it was Martok's name being sung, the music picking up again, and something in my mind nudged me that my time to dance was coming. My nerves itched as I recalled the "training" I had, albeit briefly, by Sirella's stern lectures. Klingon dancing wasn't precisely choreographed, but it could not be foolishly thrown over, either. However, knowing the complete chronicle of Kahless from his rise as Emperor to his taking of Lady Lukara as his wife - and he was not of royal blood - and how he defended his people up until Molor took over and Kahless would rather die than live under that creature's reign.

 _The Unforgettable..._ the title of this particular song rang through my brain and revved my engine. Unforgettable being the keyword as I willed myself forward when Gowron announced to all the guests that a "special young one will do the honors of dancing for the general" - and none other than me.

All eyes on me - I knew so many of the males were eyeing me like a fresh piece of meat they could slap and then chew to satisfy their urges later - I gracefully pranced on the middle of the wide floor which was for me and me alone. The drums vibrated my senses as my body went light with the melody, the story of the rise coming to my mind. My arms swayed over my head and the front of my body, then came down to clasp before me as if in prayer. My legs kicked out when the beat picked up and the operatic tale of his and Lukara's fight at Qam-Chee. I was in the moment, reenacting the events in my mind in the dance as if I was actually there. I could almost picture the couple standing over the corpses of the enemies that stormed them in the Imperial Palace...

My body was on fire by the time I slowed down and knelt down on one knee, bowing my head, only for a brief pause. I knew I was sweating, for I felt the drops roll down my body, and my hair was plastered to my head despite its fashion. When the drums picked up again, I raised my head and found myself looking ahead, aware of the appraisal around me - but it was Worf whose attention I held most of all.

Now that I burned even hotter beneath those eyes, I saw his encouragement, his support and everything that I needed. I also saw something more because of me dancing for him, Martok and the chancellor as well as the other warriors and their wives. Suddenly, it was as though the performance was _all for him..._

My body jerked backwards again and on both feet as I swirled around with my hips going about on their own volition. I never danced much in my life, save for free-flowing style just for fun. I felt that I could never stop now, even when this song ended - but it had to by the time it was over, and now people were cheering...for _me._

I was weary to my bones, but I glanced over to where Martok and Gowron stood, their teeth bared in proud grins as they applauded for me and my gift for bringing the tale of Kahless to life alone on this night. This called for bloodwine and targ to feast - but first, I needed some air. I wasn't tolerable to the heat as the Klingons were, but it wasn't like I would remain outdoors forever. I was just getting away from the excitement and aftermath when I was once again stopped by Lady Sirella. She wasn't cold this time, but she was stern as ever.

"You did well, Jadzia."

I blinked and stared at her in surprise. Somehow I could not think of a word to say to her...and then I felt a small smile tug my lips. There might be hope yet...

I don't believe I have felt so exhilarated since my first training session with Worf, who was still back at the party. I crossed the hallways lit with torches and got gazes from men but none of them stopped me. I did not stop until I was out a doorway that showed night and the wilderness calling, but I would not risk my life tonight by going out there and get chewed to bits by targ, or anything else. My hair was stuck to my head that it frustrated me. Reaching up, I tore out the pins and pulled the braids from their loops, curls falling freely over my back and shoulders; fresh air washed over my skin like rain.

I found myself looking up at the night heavens, seeing the stars twinkling more than before...and then a _face_ formed that I cried out and stumbled backwards. The wind picked up, wisping my hair behind my shoulders. A Klingon man appeared in my vision, and I knew this was no dream this time. "Kahless," I whispered, lowering my voice so no one heard me.

 _"This is all real, Jadzia,"_ he answered. _"You have performed the tale of my life greatly, took a next step in ensuring your worthiness. The hardest is to come."_

And then he was gone. I knew what he meant now by "hardest" - and Worf, none other.

I had closed my eyes in thought. Emotion was a good thing to have, but also terrible because of my predicament. I had always felt the following for Worf ever since I met him: admiration, intrigue, safe - all things warm and positive in a way I never recalled in a man. But love? I never thought of it that way, and there was still...

His voice broke me from my thoughts. "You were as divine as Lukara herself," he said, but I didn't turn around to look at him, instead lowered my eyes to the ground below. "Heroic and grand in one."

"Is that the best you can say in place of 'beautiful'?" I don't know why I snapped now, but I suppose it was the best I could do as a petty way to get back at him. I pushed my hair away out of habit, which earned another comment.

"Your hair," Worf breathed, all traces of hostility forgotten now and so quickly. "I have never seen such exquisite -"

Furious, I spun around and glared at him with the ferocity of a she-cat. "Is this the best you can do to apologize to me?!" I exploded. "You take my arms and you shake me, and we try to avoid each other but lose the opportunity! Now you watch me perform, think I wear _this_ -" I motioned over my scantily dressed form with one hand. "- for you just to take your breath away, I dance for you and all the men and women, even the general - and now you're calling me graceful and calling my hair lustrous? That's a strange way of apologizing on your part," I stated, folding my arms across my chest.

He stared at me for a moment before sighing. "I was only observing, and what I have observed can't make me hate you forever. But -" Now his anger was back, but his voice remained low. "- you never should have been where you don't belong. But I can't condone nearly harming you because of my anger."

I was fed up with his excuses. That's all this was, excuses. I was fragile compared to him, no matter my growing physical structure. "Well, now that we have THAT out of the way, who are those people I saw in the pictures?" I asked.

"They were...friends I have not seen in some years now," Worf replied, coming to stand beside me now and placing a hand on the balustrade. "Richard Bashir and his wife Amsha, and their son Julian who is the same age as I in human years. It's a rather long story, and more complicated than I can tell you, Jadzia. Now can you understand?"

He was pushing my limit with giving me vague answers, but at least he told me that those humans in the pictures were...old friends of his. Maybe I could ask Martok if he knew, if not Worf. But would I betray him again in this manner? Another mistake like that was not worth permanently destroying this. "Yes," I answered.

I reeled back when I saw the ghost of a _smile_ forming on his face. He was smiling now...because of ME. I could hardly believe this. I had finally gotten Worf, the scowling Klingon doctor, to _smile._ Suddenly I was not mad at him anymore, and I was smiling with him - but that left one thing to do, and a really dark side of me that I had no idea unleashed broke through. I reached for his dagger at his belt - for show's sake and in case any fights could break out - and I pointed it at his chest, with little success at getting a reaction from him.

"I swear to Kahless, Worf," I snarled, tightening my grip on the dagger and a part of me wishing I could stab him just for the sake of satisfaction, "if you EVER touch me like that again or even _TALK_ to me like that again...I will cut out your heart and have it for breakfast either while it is still beating or not!"

He rumbled with laughter in his throat. "How bold and daring, Ensign Idaris," he said, "and enticing."

"E-enticing?" I gasped at his equally surprising boldness, but I got no further response as my mouth was covered with his. Heat washed over my skin and headed for my pounding heart. The knife against his heart loosened, my hand dropping to my side yet keeping my fingers tight. Eventually, my digits slackened and let the weapon clatter loudly to the concrete ground so my fingers could find their way to cup both sides of his face and bring him closer...

~o~

 _He let me go and then turned me over so I leaned over the balustrade, my back arched and the adrenaline coursing through my body as he leaned over me, still looking into my eyes. I grasped both sides of the railing with both my hands, the danger frightening and intoxicating at the same time. I was developing a taste for the unknown trouble ahead._

 _This was nothing I ever expected of our first time._

 _It had to be quick, though, for anyone could come out here and find us. For all we knew, Martok or Sirella, perhaps Gowron himself, could be looking for us or even asking for us..._

 _"Are you sure you want to do this?" Worf asked, his voice rough with clear passion and longing. "Now might not be a good idea."_

 _"You're right," I agreed. "Let's find somewhere quiet from here." My body was fueled with fire, desiring his, and the pooling between my thighs could not be avoided, but I was nervous at pointing this part out to him. I gasped loudly when I felt one of his hands hike up my skirt, caressing my bare thigh and finding the spot,_ touching _my sweetly sensitive womanly place..._

~o~

These dreams and visions were really getting to me that I was getting more than fired up. This latest one involved what happened five nights ago, only it didn't go that far. I had wanted him to, and I could tell he had as well, but we both knew that the time then was wrong. Yet my body hungered for his, and it got worse when we both returned to the party together, my new state being that my hair was freed from its pinned and braided confides, wild as the rest of them.

Things got all the more hectic from there. I was roaring with life with the rest of the Klingons from the moment we returned for the rest of the night. I was more than prepared for a migraine the next morning, if it applied for all of them. When I let myself enjoy the life of the party, Worf was back to being himself, just enjoying the bloodwine while keeping his eyes on me so many times. He had a talent for holding himself back...but there was also a way to get himself to lower his guard, risky as it was. I was risking myself most of all.

I grunted when I noticed how my body was still aching upon waking up now. My breasts tingled, but below my waist the most. I knew what this was, and solo touch would not solve it even though I managed numerous times in my life. I was not a child or adolescent anymore; he was a grown man, but he had never done this before, either. This was not youthful urges; this was a mature longing.

A longing that I couldn't ignore anymore, but what about _Worf_?

 **The song playing which Jadzia witnesses at the beginning of the party is actually a real song composed by Adrian von Ziegler, called "Bushido" - it is the Japanese samurai "way of the warrior" for the moral of loyalty and honor until death. I always knew the song befitted the Klingons somehow, and as soon as I learned the meaning of the word, it hit home one hundred percent. :)**

 **The other song Jadzia dances to is "The God of Thunder" by Antti Martikainen, which was an epic tune of Thor and I thought was a fantastical parallel to the story of Kahless - and the image conjured up was none other than JADZIA dancing to the rhythm.**

 **In episode 8 of Outlander season 1, Claire the leading lady received a serious beating of disobedience by her husband - and in retaliation when they make up by having rough sex, she takes his sword and puts it to his heart and threatens to cut his heart out and feast on it for breakfast if he whipped her again. :D Talk about the perfect idea for Jadzia.**


	9. Winds of Ardor

**"Afer Ventus" means African wind, the lyrics which I took as a perfect means to take Jadzia and Worf's relationship to the next level.**

Chapter Nine

Winds of Ardor

This was more than a risky move to make at this time of night, as I prowled on bare feet and in a soft, loose gown as well as my loose curls the way he liked it. There were few lights on, namely small torches to give off a soft taupe glow, the shadows dancing like spirits of a certain holiday of the year. The worst that could happen was that he would say he could not hurt me, tame as it was compared to saying he wasn't aroused as I was. That humiliation wasn't something I could afford at this time of night - or this time _period_.

The stone beneath my feet was solid comfort if not warm and welcoming. I wasn't afraid of my surroundings, however. Who would strike at this time of night? One hundred hours barely, I did not look anywhere else other than the path laid before me, not stopping until I reached Worf's room in the east. This was the second time here; how bad could coming here be besides tonight's motivations?

No windows were opened, but an imaginary wind caressed my flesh and nerves. It added to the boiling below my waist and my murderously pounding chest organ that was most important alongside my brain. Unlike before, I wasted no time in ringing the alarm to the rooms - but then the anxiety picked up when the doors opened to show the man himself who should have been asleep at this hour, but for whatever reasons, he had been unable to close his eyes like me. Or was I wrong?

Worf blinked as he looked over my face. "Jadzia," was all he said. "What are you doing here?" He wasn't angry that I had come to his sanctuary, just baffled.

"I'm sorry to bother you," I apologized, shifting nervously on my feet. "I couldn't sleep, and I'm sorry I woke you..."

"You didn't. I find sleep troubling nowadays. I have...dreams that I can't push away, but I am no analyst of these matters."

I agreed with him, but the latest one I had - "It concerns what...transpired days ago," I confessed, lowering my eyes. "I was nervous coming here at first because..." I stopped there, suddenly clenching in my throat.

He finished what he thought was what I was thinking, which was half yes and half no. "I don't think you have to finish that. I think I know where you are going with this."

"You do?" I looked up at him hopefully.

"These dreams I have had for some time now involve me and...you," Worf answered, conflicted as I was. If now was a good time to smile in understanding, I might not be completely honest with myself or to him. He had been dreaming about me as I had been dreaming of him just tonight. Now was a damned good time to be honest now.

"Same on my part."

He looked very much surprised. "I'm not sure if I should ask what about."

My cheeks flushed, but I got the answer out. "It was about us on the balcony outside the party," I answered readily and without unknown trouble, "only after the kiss, it got...more." Now I looked down shyly, embarrassed and not knowing the response now - and then I felt smooth, strong fingers come up to cup my chin and make me look into his eyes; the amber orbs were soft and knowing, tender and caring. Amber itself was an ancient precious mineral known to preserve anything in its wake. I wished right now could be preserved, but then it would not mean what I had come here for.

"Now I know why you are here," Worf spoke, his voice hoarse. He stepped aside for me to come in, and closed the doors behind us. "Are you sure you want to do this? Klingons lose control of themselves in these things..."

"Yes, Worf. I don't want anymore doubt," I insisted. My aching wetness below my stomach was increasing by the minute that I was becoming irritated. "I came all this way to turn back now."

He exhaled sharply, shoulders rolling back, relenting. "You're right. We've...avoided this long enough. Jadzia, you're nothing like any other I've known in my lifetime, as commonly spoken as it is." He was leaning down, inches from my face which lessened with each second. "But I'm not sure I can keep away any more, no matter how hard I tried," he confessed.

I couldn't either. I answered without directly speaking, leaning up to press my mouth against his for the second time; it was brief and innocent, but when I pulled back, I think we both wanted another since we leaned towards each other at the same time and savored each other's skin texture while our mouths opened, our tongues clashing and tasting. I never thought a Klingon could taste so...irresistible. His scent reached my nose - earth and lilac, which was very interesting as I know no one of his species could smell like this. But it did not matter. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held him close to me. His larger, stronger arms wrapped around my smaller body and kept me ensnared as he deepened our make-out session, until the need to breathe ended it all.

Worf's hands were pulling at my gown, telling me he wanted it off, and I realized I did, too. I let him pull it over my head; I raised my arms to make it easier. It was then and there I realized no man had EVER seen me naked before, so the blush returned with a vengeance. The spots on either side of my body began at my hairline and traveled over the sides of my face, over my shoulders and down beside my breasts, my sides and over my legs where they ended at the outside of my ankles. Male Trills had larger, darker spots whereas my side had smaller, lighter ones. I did not tell him this given he just found out for himself...

I burst out giggling a little when his hands caressed my sides, tracing the spots. "Your spots are sensitive," he noted, and I nodded. "Well, this also answers another question I had."

"And that was?" I cracked a small grin.

"How far down these spots went." And the answer was all the way.

I suppressed a gasp when one hand moved, ghosting over my stomach and then up, but he stopped when he reached my breast on the right. He looked at me without a word, asking my permission. I nodded, but keeping myself from gasping was easier said than done. The pleasure that washed over me when he squeezed my bare breast was more than I expected, not that I wasn't enjoying it. I closed my eyes and melted into it.

I was reaching for his shirt, but he stopped me. He didn't want me to see him in the state I was in, making me frown. "I just don't think you will like the sight of me," Worf said, his self-consciousness showing. I remembered a handful of my girl friends from school talking about how a naked Klingon was a far from pleasant sight, but I never thought of it until now. I wanted to see Worf on my own, not because of the past spoken, but he wasn't ready, so I respected his wishes and let him lay me down on his bed.

I trembled beneath his lustful eyes, gripping the fur blanket beneath me, the soft and coarse texture scratching my bare back. "Lights off," he said, leaning over me and kissing me again.

Darkness surrounded us both now. We were not going to see each other any longer; why look when you could _feel?_ I felt Worf touching me again, kissing me all over in ways I never thought I'd be. The spots besides my breasts sizzled and caused my nipples to harden. I was about to ask him to kiss them, but he was already doing it as if reading my mind; I arched up against him but lowered again when he wrapped his lips around my left nipple. I believe stars shot before my very eyes as the uncontrollable jolts of electrical desire rendered me helpless beneath him. He was treating more tenderly than he thought he would, in a way a human man would to his mate, or a Trill man to his...

I moaned and writhed beneath him when he fondled my thighs, then my hips and buttocks to drive me to a frenzy; he was avoiding the one place where I needed him the most, neglected thus far. "Worf, please," I whimpered, bringing my hands up to his wild, loose mane as long as mine was. Since we were both on fur, in the dark and with no secrets between us now - but still so many he had of his own that I did not want to know tonight - we were both answering the call of the wild between our long-held desires.

I exclaimed so loudly at what he did next that my voice could have pierced the walls and reached the ears of the rest of the house. He traveled downwards, his lips and nose nuzzling the sensitive middle line of my abdomen and my navel until he reached the apex of my thighs, nuzzling my pubic nest; I jumped again when my sensitive pearl was discovered and massaged with his teeth. It was so hard not to laugh, which offended him.

"I don't know what's funny about this."

"I c-can't help it."

"I'm supposed to be making you moan," he pointed out. "Not laugh. You're making me feel like I am not excelling at this."

I exhaled sharply when I realized I hurt his feelings. "I'm sorry."

He didn't need to acknowledge my apology, instead leaning down and continuing to devour me away, making me thrash beneath him until I could not take enough of it. His hands squeezed my hips firmly, keeping me in place. My nerves twisted and loosened when I orgasmed down his throat, throbbing with remaining pleasure afterwards. He drank down every ounce of me until there was nothing much left. My vision had exploded white and hot as my body did; now I was cooling down, but not for long. Worf climbed on top of me now, slipping between my legs for the part that was going to hurt now, but I braced myself, trusting him with my life.

~o~

Morning broke on the both of us. I turned my face away from the sun in my face to see the peaceful expression of the man laying beside me. Worf lay on his back as I was. I was tempted to reach over and run my fingers along his jaw, but I didn't want to wake him from his dream.

I knew he was going to ask me if I regretted last night by the time he awoke, and I already knew the answer: never. I'd had my doubts, but the risk had been worth it. I was still kind of afraid to say "love" in what we had, but it would not remain that way forever. However, I would say he was a wonderful lover, since we were by far past the friends stage now.

I sat up, keeping the blankets to my chest, tingling in my spots and certain sensitive parts of my body, but I was also a little sore between my legs, where my purity had been taken. I could just picture Ziranne giving me a hard time about this if she were here now.

My womanhood throbbing with sexual satisfaction was not the only sign that I was a new woman. I dropped the blankets to look down at my naked body and see the causes with my own two eyes: my hips bore slight bruises when Worf held me in place; there were also some bite marks around my breasts. Otherwise, I was not seriously injured as he'd feared he would do to me in the midst of our fiery lovemaking. Looking up in the mirror on the wall beside the bed, I saw my body as I had, but now I got to see how my hair was all over the place.

This was not the Jadzia Idaris as I knew myself, the promising young Trill ensign of Starfleet - this was a wilder, primitive creature unleashed in a single night of passion.

I'd gone to the stars and back, came back a whole different person inside.

I lay back on the bed, inhaling through my nose and letting it out through there as well as my now opened lips. I felt like I was in a rose garden back home on Trill, enjoying the sweet smell and feeling the soft petals of one I grabbed, as I used to do with my baby sister in our earliest years. Then the wind would pick up and blow our hair in our faces. Wonderful a memory to relate to the present.

A collection of grumbles made me look over to my side, seeing Worf's head roll back and forth, and then his eyes snapped open so he stared up at the ceiling for a moment before turning to see me. I smiled at him. "Morning, sleepy head," I teased.

He rumbled again. "And to you," he returned, sitting up and stretching, which I found very adorable - for him, in its own way. "Are you...all right?" He looked me over, and his eyes widened at the sight of the bruises on my hips as well as the bites on my breasts. He looked away and down at his lap as if in utter shame. I sat up, covering my chest and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"It's nothing," I assured him. "It was the best night of my life."

Now he looked at me with a look that I'd never seen before; he appeared more vulnerable, more _human_ in a figurative manner of speaking, and then he smiled slightly, accepting the kiss I gave him on the brow...but then it was gone. "Jadzia..." Uh oh, I felt myself grow cold as I knew that tone of voice. "...according to Klingon tradition, since we just...mated, we have to get married."

Fear suddenly clouded my very being. Marriage was never something that I wanted to do anytime soon, so I had not expected that. But on second thought, we could put that off, or was I being too naïve? I wasn't a Klingon, so I had to trust him on allowing this one slip of the rules since I wasn't one of his own. He mused this when I told him, nodding.

"If we can't get married soon, then allow me to give you this instead." I watched as he turned away from me and reached over to the table on his side, pulling out something from the drawer. His palm was closed before it reopened and showed the most beautiful thing I had ever seen - and it was by far more stunning than any diamond or ruby. "It's the tooth of a targ I killed long before I met you," he explained, clasping it around my neck, the serrated, silver-wrapped fang dropping between my breasts and glimmering with pure raw power and beauty. "It's amongst custom that a trophy is taken from your kill and presented to the one for you."

My lungs felt like they had been ripped of oxygen, because I was so infatuated with this treasure around my neck...and it was a treasure I knew I would hold always. I leaned into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around me. "Thank you."

~o~

Our relationship grew in the next month and a half to follow, blossoming like the flora of Qo'noS in the coming spring.

I remember being uncertain of my future. This leave of absence was not what I had wanted, but I began to thank Curzon for this. He and his comrades were still on the hunt, which was taking so much longer than any of them thought it would, but it was not like them to give up without a fight. I could not get him to quit, either.

He had made me the butt of his jokes when I finally told him about my newfound relationship with Worf. _"Jadzia girl, finally popped, haven't you?"_ he'd said on our last communication, making me turn more furiously red than I could recall.

I began to pick up more in my Klingon martial arts techniques, and I learned to best my opponent with his help, and sometimes Martok. I began to sport broken bones now, and it hurt like hell, but when they healed, I had never felt better. Worf was adamant as ever about the injuries I sustained, but frankly he could do nothing about it. He healed me and then kissed me afterwards. We made love afterwards - hours after, to be precise, to give me time to recover - and it was fierce as it could get as it was practicing with _bat'leth._

However, for a few weeks now, I began to sustain unusual symptoms in my body that even prevented me from enjoying the arts sessions: constant vomiting, shortage of breath, as well as cramps below my abdomen. For a moment, I had thought it was my menstrual cycle, which would happen for a week - but then I remembered I had missed my last one, now that I calculated on my own...and then the dread hit me just like that after I realized what might be wrong with me, and I had to go to Worf to confirm even if it would risk an explosion from him.

I was carrying his child.

 **Honestly, there was no known information on female Trill pregnancy that I could find, so I "flew by the seat of the pants". In my fic of Jadzia and Julian Bashir, "A Red Sun Rises", I mentioned briefly that their menstrual cycles last a week, which is longer than a human woman's period - and the symptoms being sickness, cramps and shortage of breath. Pregnancy wise, in contrast to 9 human months and 5 Bajoran months, seven for a Trill seemed logical enough. As for how long it takes to get pregnant, I struggled with that as it depends entirely with a human, so I guessed it was faster than a month at least.**

 **So now we gotta see Worf's reaction to a baby coming into the picture. Uh oh. :O**


	10. I Could Never Say Good-Bye

**It's never easy to do the reaction of a man when he discovers the woman he loves is pregnant with his child, and neither expects it - in this case, Worf is destined to unleash it, and when word gets back to Sirella, there will be hell to pay. But Martok? Let's find out.**

Chapter Ten

I Could Never Say Good-Bye

There were no words to describe the terror in my gut, in my heart and every part of my body. This did not bode well for me and Worf - and I did not know how to feel about realizing I was going to be a mother.

And Worf might not be overjoyed at becoming a father.

To tell anyone who wasn't him would ruin me definitely. I knew my Starfleet career would not be ruined, but the Symbiosis Commission? Curzon? The latter might decide my fate simply because I was his pupil - and that frightened me more, nauseated me more than anything else ever did. He could go to the board and request that I be dropped from EVER inheriting the symbiont simply because I got pregnant by a Klingon, and the fault would be all on me and not him. If that happened, then I was going to accept the responsibility...unless something could be done about that.

I could not think about my future with the symbiont right now. I was having a baby that I never knew would happen - or so fast, for that matter. But for now, I had to keep my condition hidden...

...only Worf noticed how ill and in pain I had been, and the fact that I would not practice with the weapons in his and Martok's company caused him to confront me in his infirmary.

"Jadzia, you've been like this for weeks. At least let me examine you," he insisted. If I said plea or beg in the sense, I'd be making it very non-Klingon for him. "Whatever it is, I'll get you through it. I have enough experience in Trill physiology."

I gulped and looked him in the eye. Both of my own were feeling watery, might as well look it, and he noticed but said nothing. Either he assumed it was because I was sick, or I was simply afraid of what he would find. I thought it was both. I sat on the stone bed like a "good little patient" and let him examine me: everything from temperature to pulse and heartrate - and then I was asked about my monthly cycle.

The words slipped out without hesitation.

"I...missed the last one."

His eyes widened before they reverted back to normal. I knew what was coming next as soon as he ran the tricorder over my abdomen and finding the little blip in there. Blip? It would have been funny if not for now. I laid back for him, kept my hands on their sides but clenched them into fists as the light scans rolled over my body. I could hear my heart thundering.

Worf's voice was harshly soft. "Jadzia..." He trailed off and continued to stare at his findings in utter shock that he didn't need to finish his sentence. "We are..."

"Having a baby," I finished for him, guiltily at that. "I know what you're going to say: how could this happen?"

"I agree. I don't know how this happened, but a Klingon and a Trill would have had difficulty conceiving a child -" Then his eyes flared. "- and especially when one is an initiate of the great Curzon Dax, and the other an outcast in the eyes of his people...and both unmarried."

Tears slipped down my cheeks. He wasn't blaming me, but he was blaming himself. "Worf, why are you talking like this?" I croaked. He sighed.

"I don't regret being with you, but I let myself get out of hand. And this came from it," he said, motioning to my flat abdomen with his tricorder now off. I broke completely because of my out of control hormones - but it was also because my heart was breaking that our lives were going to change altogether.

I wanted to reach out and take his hand into mine, but my muscles held me back. "What do you want to do now?"

"I should have asked _you_ that," he said, surprised. "But if you must know my answer, I don't want to abort this child. I've always been against such things, but children have been known to be lost before birth or after amongst the Klingons." My stomach clenched and then softened into mush at such horrific images. On Trill, abortions were legalized only when the board of health goes through with the final decision as to whether or not the mother would survive after the baby was killed. The mother herself had no choice in the matter. I never thought I would find myself in this predicament, but I wasn't on Trill anymore.

I also was not married, like he pointed out. Which makes it more difficult. I had no experience with raising children, and he didn't either. "I'm sorry to ask...what are we going to do now?" I whispered, my cheeks burning as the tears soaked into my skin.

"I wish I knew, but one thing is certain: Sirella will not be best pleased once we tell her." I looked at him in alarm, knowing the lady's wrath. "I don't relish this any more than you," he said, with the cool clinical speaking of the doctor he was, "but we can't keep this hidden forever. Had it gotten out later, it would have blown to the heavens and even enraged Kahless himself."

~o~

"Jadzia, you little fool."

The slap to my face sent me on my knees that I covered my face not only to nurture the burn in my flesh, but to hide the tears I could not fight back now. I wanted so much to be angry at Worf for this decision, but he was the doctor, and who was I to question him as always?

I was beyond anger and hate at this very moment. I was angry at Worf for sure - but I hated Sirella most of all.

"And you, Worf -" Her eyes blazed with uncontrollable frenzy when she looked him square, but he did not display any form of emotion. She did not frighten him as much as she frightened me inside. "- you had the fatal mistake of bedding an alien and in my own house! You are an even greater fool than I thought you were."

That makes us both, I wanted to say, but it would only make it worse, but he was there for me. "Lady Sirella, with due respect," Worf countered, "I care for Jadzia more than just a friend, no matter her being a non-Klingon. I never dreamed that I would find someone like her, and no man is accorded the luxury of choosing a woman he falls in love with."

"My husband's words." She laughed harshly. "Well, I doubt I can erase that, can I?" She looked at me again when I stood and dusted myself off, holding myself together.

"But that leaves your future in the question, doesn't it, Jadzia? A transmission to Curzon Dax is in order, and he should decide whether or not he should come back and retrieve the disgrace that you are, take you back to your own people if they will accept you," she sneered. "See how they take the fact you mated with a Klingon man, if they will accept that breed that I never will."

My hands flew protectively over my stomach, a sudden wave of protectiveness coming over my senses for my child - and Worf's - as Sirella taunted us both and its father who erupted with rage in his voice. "Sirella," he growled vengefully, standing in front of me, "you speak without honor and with prejudice, xenophobic views."

"Klingons do not accept outsiders, Worf," she spat. "We conquer." She began to circle us both, like a predator trapping prey. "The both of you disgust me. Curzon Dax will know about this as soon as possible, and when you do tell him and if he decides to abandon you, don't come sniveling to me," she hissed when she stopped behind me. "You're a failure, Jadzia, and you always will be. At best, an object of pity who could never match up to greater authority."

I had enough of this. I turned my back to her and began to stalk away from her, from Worf, and found my rooms, locking myself in and refusing to answer any calls for any reason, unless it was from Curzon - and I was not looking forward to that in the slightest.

Hours later - Sirella never wasted any time - she informed me that he was on the line and wished to speak to me. Unable to control the breaking out of perspiration, I faced my mentor and field docent, seeing the grim expression I knew he would have. And his response matched.

 _"It should have been impossible for a Trill and a Klingon to bear children, my dear. But there is very little notice to consult the medical board on Trill or even on the_ Livingston. _I wish I could be there now, but tomorrow we attack the Albino at last."_

"You found him," I stated, utterly relieved that he and the others finally caught up to him. "What happened?"

 _"He sent Kang the message, claiming he was finished and tired of running, and that he would propose one last glorious battle against forty of his finest. It would be the four of us against forty of them. The odds are against us, but I'm willing to take the chance,"_ Curzon answered solemnly, tilting his head. _"We have to take out the armory and the power station before we can take action, however."_

To which he should have had me present to help. _"Yes,"_ he answered, _"but it can't happen, my dear. Before I go off with my friends, I have to consult with the Symbiosis Commission."_ Now his tone took a very cold, formal turn in a flash that I felt a tear from each corner of my eye slip with my sweat - and his words made me break down to a point of beyond repair.

 _"I'm going to request that you be terminated from the initiation program, for your own good, Jadzia."_

~o~

I believe I threw more than just a childish tantrum when I threw myself out the window - not to commit suicide - to land on the earth and run for the woods. In the past several weeks, I'd learned to find safe spots if I wanted to be in the wild alone for whatever reason, and this was to think. Not just to think, but to scream, cry and curse - you name it.

How could Curzon DO this to me?!

I felt betrayed more than I ever was in my life. People abandoned me, people teased me in my life, called me scared and weak, seldom as those times were - but I hated myself as I was. Pitiful Jadzia Idaris, well-educated science girl and young officer, from a planet of science-based beings like any other - and I came so close to getting the one thing I wanted most, but it had been ripped from me because I gave myself to a man that in return gave me a child neither of us expected.

It was my fault after all. I was the one who seduced Worf, even though he never used that phrase on me. I couldn't keep it to myself, let myself blindly follow some so-called prophecy by Kahless...and my life was taken away from me just like that. I had nothing left but Starfleet, and how could I get away now like this?

Curzon _abandoned_ me _._

Might as well say good-bye to hopes of ever being joined - yet I could not let it go just like that, the fierce side of me rose when I leaned against a tree facing the depths and paths into the forest. I was alone now, wanted to be alone for awhile to my sorrow, wished I could walk those miles ahead of me until I passed out and became targ food...but the little thing in my body swirled and brought me back to life. I wasn't going to give up just like that. Maybe not now, but someday soon, I could pick up the pieces and pick up where I left off even if it took every breath in my body.

I would become Jadzia Dax one day, with or without Curzon - the man I thought I could look up to but who rejected me in the end. I had failed to impress him because I followed my heart.

However, I was also confused. He'd been there when I told him about the mysterious message about me and Worf, but this time with a baby coming into the picture, he had out-of-the-blue informed me he would drop me from the initiation program that I had worked so hard to get into. All I knew was that I could not - and never would - forgive him for wounding me the way he did.

I looked over my head at the sound of thunder rolling. A storm was coming soon. I might as well run back into the house for shelter, but at the same time, I wanted the rainfall to cleanse away my tears if not the aching in my bones.

I closed my eyes as I felt the first drop hit my cheek...and then I heard my name called. Eyes snapping open, I hid behind the tree in case it was Worf, but as the voice drew nearer, it was someone better - I hope. "Martok!" I shouted over the increasing downpour, stepping out and facing him.

"Jadzia, you need to come inside now."

"And go back to apologize to your wife for a forgiveness she does not deserve?" I countered. "She called me weak, pitiful - and Curzon rejected me, left me here to rot!"

He grumbled and shook his head, shaking off drops from his bushy mane. "And you won't have to, but you should be inside resting after the ordeal today," he told me, venturing closer. "Your life isn't over."

I snorted and put my hands on my hips. "My future becoming a joined Trill was taken from me by a man whom I looked up to as a teacher and friend - and he rejects me because I am pregnant," I pointed out. "How can you say it's not over?"

"Because a true warrior never gives up without a fight, Jadzia. You might have lost one battle, but there is always more to come. This isn't the end of the war, because in the very near future, you will try again to regain what was taken from you, reclaim your honor and even shed blood in your path if you have to. Tear through with more passion than you ever dreamed of." His eyes glittered. "And as for you and Worf, he has been looking for you. Now, if you please, come with me. He and this little one -" He placed his hand over my stomach, the feeling strange but comforting. "- are all you have now."

 **I had it planned from the beginning to get Jadzia pregnant at some point, so it's coming along more than I planned in the beginning. :)**


	11. Echoes in the Rain

Chapter Eleven

Echoes in the Rain

 _A true warrior never gives up without a fight..._

 _You may have lost one battle, but there is always more to come..._

 _In the very near future, you will try again to regain what was taken from you..._

Martok's words would never leave my subconscious. He was a true fighter who was doing his best to get me back into the fight again. I wanted so much to believe him, but it was so difficult. I was pregnant, I got washed out of the initiation, and I was on leave of absence because of Curzon. I wanted to go back to Starfleet, maybe find someone to take care of my baby while I ran my career in the direction it should - or I could leave it with Worf, but he didn't seem to be like the type to raise a baby. Sirella could not give the child the love it needed either. I might as well condemn it to a life of no love, and then it would grow up hating me...

Wait, I couldn't do that. I grew up with a strict mother who then left me and my sister, so there was no way I could do that to this one. I could not leave it with anyone else. It wouldn't be easy, but I could make it work somehow as I went to wherever I would be stationed. It wasn't ideal for a child, but what choice was there? A stranger raising it was out of the question.

Sirella's cruel words were back with full fury.

 _Klingons do not accept outsiders..._

 _You're a failure, Jadzia, and you always will be..._

 _At best, an object of pity who could never match up to greater authority..._

She called me an alien, an outsider - an inequal. She said I was feeble, lacking, and all things pitiful you could call anyone -

 _WAIT._

I was letting her get to me. I let her manipulate me until I had no idea how to think or feel. Why did I let her get away with it? She was polluted, self-destructive, arrogant and fiery - and I hated her for the way she treated me. I wanted to pick up a _bat'leth_ and challenge her, with or without receiving her respect in return. Who cared if I killed her in the fight? It might be no less than she deserved - but the penalty would be far more severe.

I was in my room, away from everyone and just reading the account of the battle of Qam-Chee - ever a classic favorite and epic romantic - and enjoying my alone time. I didn't know what my future held now, but I knew that I had to make the best of it from now on. Right now, I wanted to relax after a long, horrid day.

Unfortunately, my solace was intruded upon. "Come in!" I called impatiently, putting the book down; Klingons were traditional in the sense of keeping great books rather than modern PADD form. The door opened, and it was none other than - "Oh, Worf, it's you."

"That's the first I hear in awhile," he stated as he looked me from the head down, comfortable in my chair and refreshed from a sonic shower, and my raven hair covering my ears. "I meant no disrespect. I only wanted to see if you were faring any better." His eyes fell to the book in my lap, saying nothing.

I adverted my eyes down to the page I was on, when Kahless was just hiding out with the lady and prepared to attack. "I wish I was any better."

"I'm sorry about what transpired between you and...Curzon." Saying it was hard for him as he knew how much it affected me, and to even hear that man's name was worse. A pause followed, and the only sound we heard was the rain outside the windows. Very soon night would fall black as a bird to represent what I endured today. "I wish I could offer more than an apology. What's been done has been done."

I said nothing, continued to look at him, suddenly impatient and wishing he could get to the real reason he was here. "Jadzia, I know how much becoming joined meant to you, so I am here for you since you have nothing else left," he went on, kneeling in front of me. "You and I are both going to be...parents." He sounded like he struggled around the word, as much as I did. "I confess I am not good with children."

Hearing that come from him suddenly made me laugh in spite of myself. He scowled at me, and I pulled it together. "I did gather that, Worf."

"But it won't stop me," he swore, suddenly reaching and taking my hand into his. "I've saved the lives of Klingons and others alike, and I have stood in battle against enemies twice my size. If I can do these things, then I can be as good a father as I can be unlike my own." His fingers closed around my hand and held it there, solemnly vowing to hold his word there - and he was making it to _me_. "And Jadzia, there is one thing I want to ask of you that has been long enough, is too much for you to answer and I know it."

I already knew what it was even before now. "I have to marry you," I answered. It didn't scare me anymore, but it didn't mean it was anything exciting for me. What choice did I have in this matter? We conceived a child out of wedlock, so this wasn't a choice.

"Yes."

"Then the answer is yes on my part," I said breathlessly, looking into his eyes and feeling myself melt under them. The amber irises were filled with something that was beyond care - it was love. And for that, I decided now was the time to stop running from it and face it. "Worf, I love you, and I will marry you."

~o~

Traditionally when a Klingon offered to court his mate, primarily in the Mekro'vak region of this world, he would offer her the leg of the wild _lingta_ and promise to provide her with whatever she desired. Such was not the case with Worf and I, even though he confessed he did consider for a moment.

I could not believe the manner in which he proposed marriage to me, which I had answered yes in spite of myself. I still doubted it was an idea to fancy, but we had no choice, for the sake of our child. When I returned to Starfleet, I would have no trouble bringing my new husband with me and the baby, and he had to be accepted amongst the medical staff of where I would go.

Preparations began immediately as the next day, and would take as long as two months, but by then I would be showing how pregnant I was. I feared how I would look in my wedding dress. Worf was the one planning everything, but Sirella had a say in the matter as well. I was allowed to be a part of it - but it seemed my opinion mattered less in the eyes of my somewhat mother-in-law. I could never call her that, even though Martok accepted Worf as a member of his house if not officially.

Traditionally, the bride would see the final result of her dress days before the wedding, having only to pick out aspects of what she wanted. The color generally was red and gold, rather than the plain traditional white as other cultures. I found it very bold and daring, to be precise. I could see myself looking flaming in the eyes of the Klingons who would be present at the First City Hall where the services would take place...

...but that also meant I would be pregnant at the time. Everyone would see me and probably roar in outrage. A pregnant Trill would not be attractive in their eyes.

Worf did an excellent job picking out this ring I now wore around my finger. Two natural sapphires were delicately in between two natural rubies, mesmerizing on gold. It was nothing I'd ever seen before. It reminded me of the both of us in each stone, ruby for him and sapphire for me...

I don't regret admitting I did love him. I'd never once said it aloud because I was too scared, and this was my first time, but it was also new to him. We would make this work, somehow.

"Perhaps if there is a way we can convince your family to visit Qo'noS, so to have them involved in the wedding," Worf suggested one day when he found me in the gardens, and I was picking up a few flowers to just bring in to give our surroundings more color. Specifically, these vivid yellow wildflowers resembling Earth's Queen Anne's lace that had no specific name; yellow represented joy and happiness. Bringing flowers in was a habit I had not done in awhile but didn't abandon. He was hunched over me, watching as I organized it into a bouquet after pairing it with some white daisies and green pompom-like florals.

My oxygen stopped for a moment before it began to flow freely again when he brought my family up. I had not spoken to them in a few months now. A part of me agreed with him, because my father, uncle and my sister especially would be very important in all of this - but I was worried about their reactions once they discovered I was also pregnant and getting married to a _Klingon._ My father wasn't exactly friendly about them, but my uncle would wise-crack friendly conversation with one if he could - and Ziranne might be scared out of her wits. I was torn between saying yes and no to Worf's suggestion.

"Jadzia?" he questioned, seeing my distant expression. "You're not close to them?"

"My sister notably," I answered. "She's like my best friend, but I haven't seen them in months. My father might not take well to me marrying a Klingon and carrying his child."

"I see." He was unaffected by the idea given he could handle my father's criticism, but at the same time, he really wanted to please my family. Sirella "tolerated" me, but mine could be another story. But my father loved me enough that he might change his mind...

We both looked up when the sky darkened. Qo'noS had a love of storms at this time of year especially to keep everything as green as it could get. The sun was obscured, turning into an obvious golden circle like an eclipse. A few drops began to pelt us both. I burst out giggling as I followed him through the shaded trees until we arrived at the back of the Martok house, in time for the shower to become a heavy sheen of silver. But Ferenginar had worse rainstorms than this.

"I could never go to Ferenginar," Worf stated, shaking his mane of the drops lingering. "The Ferengi are obnoxious and intolerable, care only about profit and treat their women like lesser bases."

"Naked and submissive," I agreed, bringing the flowers in my hand to my nose once more to inhale. "I could be like that at night on occasion "- I batted my lashes at him. "- but not as a living."

He sneered, but turned his eyes from me when he did the deed. "I would not presume to consider a woman any lesser than I am," he declared. "Klingon women are partners in battle, mothers of our children - and our equals." He looked back at me with a twitching smile to one corner of his mouth.

A pain tightened at the end of my back, causing me to wince. It was minor to occur in the early stages of pregnancy for Trills. Worf noticed and led me off to his room. I was finally allowed to come in, but I could not probe through his possessions at all when he was looking or not. He had a way to relieve the ache in my back; I might as well fall asleep from it. While he searched amongst his collection for the ointment, I stripped down and laid on my stomach. It wasn't anything sexual, but who knew afterwards. My spots would sear me anyways.

I moaned when the smell of the lotion as well as the feel of the potion on my skin roused me. I turned my face to my left and rested on my arms as his hands roamed over my back, specifically where my spine ended. Exotic herbs and nuts calmed me and moistened my pores. My nerves flared and reached every sensitive point, even my spots. He was working his magic wonderfully; my back was no longer hurting in what felt like half an hour later.

"Oh, Worf." I felt like he was done with my back and backside - the latter which did the final trick - and rolled onto my back so he had a full view of my body, stretching out languidly before his eyes. He growled when he looked me over. I was doing this on purpose; even his eyes told me so.

"Are you sure?" He was asking because I was pregnant, and he didn't want to hurt our baby other than me. I nodded that I was sure, and he got to work on running the potion over my breasts, spots and everywhere else, we went at it like crazed voles in spite of ourselves.

~o~

I was feeling worse than I was when Curzon left me to rot, so a part of me wanted to crawl away and die just like that. I was nauseated to my core, and I loathed it. No matter how much time went on, no matter what happened, I would always be a scared little child.

But when my sister's face greeted me instead of our father, I almost broke down and cried with joy. "Hello, little sister."

 _"Jadzia, it's been so long!"_ She started to tear up herself. _"I've missed you so much. You owe me an entire story to tell,"_ she said, becoming serious. _"How is the training with Curzon coming along?"_

My insides turned soft yet again before they tightened with sickness. When I told her everything from beginning to end, I was amazed how I didn't even cry as I did inside. "I should have gotten to become suitable for Dax," I wept to Ziranne, who shook her head and _tsked_. "This is my fault."

She scoffed. _"Don't you dare look down on yourself, 'Zia! You know you worked hard for this, so you deserved it! The old fool dropped you because you found happiness while he went off elsewhere. But Father..."_ Now she was as afraid as I was. _"...he won't be happy when he learns about this,"_ she said, biting her lower lip. I sighed and agreed with her.

"But do you think you can make it to the wedding?"

 _"You really love him, right, sister?"_

"More than I ever thought I would. I don't know how it happened, but it did. It was like something was taken from me, but I was given something in return," I explained. "Even if Father won't be happy for me, I'm happy to have Worf and the baby."

She grinned at me then. _"Then how can I refuse coming to my sister's big day?"_

 **Doing the wedding planning and the likes is much harder than it was on the show, so I'm really nervous how this and the next chapter will come out in the end. The wedding and the relationship between Worf and Jadzia can't be messed up in any way for all of you.**

 **Mekro'vak is also the land of the Lady Grilka from season 4, whose husband Quark killed accidentally in his bar and married for convenience to save her property and be placed as head of her own House. And the presentation of _lingta_ leg is also part of said Klingon courtship in "Looking for par'Mach in All the Wrong Places". **

**Jadzia's new ring from Worf is the Carondelet ring from Brilliant Earth, a fabulous wedding and engagement ring site.**


	12. Marble Halls

**As a start, an important character from TNG comes in, and even though I have not seen the show or read much fics on her, I hope she comes out okay.**

Chapter Twelve

Marble Halls

Ziranne was coming with Father to the wedding in two months, but Worf had very few real friends besides Martok and a handful of the general's trusted comrades who would enjoy the four nights of _Kal'Hyah_ \- the Path of Clarity for the Klingon groom - before the wedding...and that meant I would spend the days with _Sirella_ before the big day.

I was in for so many days of hell to come, not counting the dress distress.

My sister could not be here to face Sirella's wrath for me; I could not burden her with this because this was my fight, and did a grown woman ever let someone else fight for her? Not in a hundred lives. I had work to do based on Klingon wedding traditions. Sirella would not be my direct mother-in-law, but the mistress of a Great House had to approve of all marriages...and that made it worse. She had the rein to forbid me from joining the House of Martok, so I could not take this so lightly. Worf urged me not to.

I despised bowing down before that old hag, but I desperately wanted to marry the father of my child. I'd done so much like learning the use of weapons, engrossed in history and legends, and I did learn to make some of the lavish and strange foods that even wiggled in your mouth.

Even though I had lived here for a few months, I had the need to learn to make ceremonial _var'Hama_ candles. Customary, a bride-to-be created these to display before and welcome the matriarch of her fiancée's House just before the wedding day. It was a great honor - and the task was long and grueling - and did I say gruesome?

The candle display was not for another week, and I was beyond anxious based on the details of how to make these honorable symbols. I was tasked to travel to the Hamar Mountains and hunt down three targs, then sacrifice them at dawn the next day, bring them back to boil into tallow so I could finish the task of molding the oily things into the candles for the final result. My stomach lurched as I could picture getting blood on my hands for sure as I had yet to.

We were having another guest coming in time for the wedding, on leave for the time being from what I heard. This Klingon was a woman and a good friend of the family - of Worf's notably - and a "special emissary of the Federation". Familiarity suddenly arose in my mind as I got the idea who this was.

I got to meet her with Worf when she arrived, and I could hardly believe my eyes. Her name was K'Ehleyr, Federation ambassador, but despite initial greetings from Martok and his wife, she didn't seem to be...fond of Klingon value. I found myself looking at my fiancée, seeing the struggle in his eyes. He was happy to see her, but at the same time, he wasn't sure. It made me wonder how CLOSE he had been to her before us...

"Ah, Jadzia Idaris. It's an honor." I was taken aback by how pleasant she was. "K'Ehleyr, at your service."

"An alien does not deserve your services," Sirella snipped behind her, and though her back faced the older Klingon woman, K'Ehleyr rolled her eyes.

"I shall decide who I offer my pleasantries and who I shall not, my lady," she returned, turning her face halfway to glare at the matriarch, stunning me. She had fire, I'll give her that. "I apologize," she said to me, "and I offer you my congratulations." She then turned to Worf, who simply bowed his head forward once. "It's been a long time, my friend."

"Yes, it has."

"Jadzia, has Worf ever mentioned me?" K'Ehleyr questioned, inclining her head to one side. I furrowed my brows, shaking my head. She burst out laughing then. "We go back as old friends - but no closer than that, even though we almost went that far." So she and Worf weren't an item, but _almost_ were. I could not be jealous over nothing then.

The great feast was laid out, by my hand and the servants, to which I received praise for from all around me with one obvious exception, and then K'Ehleyr surprised me once again. "I'm surprised that Jadzia can survive wiggling _gaght_ and _racht_ , or even octopus," she said to Martok, who chuckled in amusement and concurrence before his "lovely" wife interrupted with another snide remark.

"She's tolerable enough on my part."

The younger Klingon female looked at her with raised eyebrows. Somehow, she reminded me more of Worf, for what reasons? Besides his attitude and courage? "Thankfully, my lady, I have enough leave on my hands to get to know the other half of my birthright for the sake of an old friend. Captain Picard and the rest of the crew can make do without me for the time being." The fire in her eyes flashed no differently than Worf. If anything, I'd say she was half human like he was, because she had a heart to stand up to Sirella.

K'Ehleyr followed me when I was heading for my rooms. "I will not be surprised if Sirella always treats you like that," she said casually.

I sniffed and clenched my hands into fists. "She does."

"Figures. She treats me half as such because my mother is also a human. It's the one thing I have in common with Worf - only he is more restrained than I am. And he holds more respect for his people's values and traditions than I do. Just because my father was a Klingon does not mean I should enjoy blood and bathing in victory of spilling it. Honor I care about, but not painfully."

I smiled at her. I liked her already, calling her a friend in my mind already. I saw a good chance to be aided in this painful pleasing the mother-in-law experience, even if K'Ehleyr did not approve of Klingon ways. A tiny part of me thought it was strange, but welcoming.

~o~

"I should also say more congratulations are in order," K'Ehleyr added when she reached over and placed a hand on my stomach. In six months, it would be time. "Have you and Worf decided names yet?"

I laughed. "It's far too early, and there is too few to name our child after in Klingon terms," I said. I wasn't sure if naming our baby a Klingon name would be suitable if it came out looking more like me, but if he or she got more looks from their father, I would be more than happy.

A noise rustling brought our attentions ahead from behind the shrubs. We were in the Hamar Mountains just less than a day's journey from the capital. She didn't like this any more than I did, but she was helping me out. The rest I would do alone, sickening as it was. I could ask the cook to do the deed of boiling the shoulders for me when I brought them back to the house.

This would be the first time I would kill a targ for the sake of the hunt, unlike the first time when I was ambushed by a pack in the city. I was beyond excited, vengeance about to taste sweet.

"I did this less than a few times before, and my father often disapproved but did not force me," K'Ehleyr explained to me as she withdrew her crossbow and arrow, aiming it. I pulled out my phaser and aimed, making her chuckle. "A phaser shot can only do so much. Bow and arrow are the best for sport - even a hunting stick."

So despite the limited love for the other half of her blood, she had a fondness for certain kinds of weapons and hunting techniques. I liked that. I grinned at her and heartily agreed. But then growling ahead got our attention. There was a targ ahead, coming out of the clearing and sniffing out for its dinner. I decided shooting to stun would make it easier, and my partner agreed, putting her bow and arrow away, allowing me to do the honors for our first hunt.

I was not afraid when the animal made eye contact with me and snarled, starting my way and ready to pounce on one of us...

...and it was unconscious when it hit the earth. Two to go, but I'd be getting ahead of myself if I said the next couple times would be just as easy.

We were almost pounced on when another came at us out of the blue from the rocks of the mountains as we ventured upwards. Targ were everywhere you went. K'Ehleyr had my back when I turned around and aimed my phaser only for her to pull hers out and take care of the next. Now one more, but when we finally found a cave, where we would stop and do the sacrifice at dawn; we were nearing the end of the day, and we needed to stop, with two targ down but one more to go. We needed to keep them tied down and prevented from eating us both in our sleep. Luckily we both brought the equipment to tame them. K'Ehleyr even knew how to tame these creatures, but I have yet to.

"I'll show you," she told me with a wink when we both pitched a fire when the night fell.

The last targ to come was inhabiting the cave, but there were no others around, so we had no trouble tying the beasts up and keeping them out for hours with help of the hyposprays we brought along, but we had to be careful to not overdose the animals. We fasted on food packs that we brought with us, generally aboard Klingon Birds of Prey, but they ended up giving me an upset stomach that I craved for something better when we returned.

Thankfully, we both fell asleep by the warm fire, and when we awoke, dawn poured onto our faces. It was time to make the ritual sacrifices - and I had the honors of bringing my own personal knife right into the hearts of each beast stretched out before me, under the sun and feeling the ways as well as fresh blood burning my skin. I don't even know how to describe the excitement that flowed in my veins.

I was going to show Sirella wrong.

This candles could have been replicated, but then Sirella would have known. K'Ehleyr and I brought the dead creatures back to Martok's house and straight for the kitchen in case the lady happened upon the bloody mess by accident. Martok, however, had arrived and saw the mess, then burst out into harsh guffaws of laughter, slapping my back and congratulating me for drawing blood on my own. "Now my wife won't be able to debase you for much longer."

Did I mention tallow was fat? It came out very yellow with lingering red accents, and the chef gave it to me personally, but I had to steer clear of any grand furnishings if I did not want to incur the fire of Lady Sirella. The fat was very mushy, but it would dry in time. The procedure took two days as it was very delicate. But when I was finished, the swirls of yellow and red were sheer magic. I had done it! I have to say I am very proud of my work. Sirella wouldn't reject me now...but oh, I was wrong yet again.

"Very impressive, Jadzia - and honorable," Sirella noted when she came to my rooms, lifting her nose at the display I presented for her, then looked me over still in my white, blood-stained blouse and tight trousers, wrinkling her nose now. "But do me a massive favor and clean up so you are not presented as a filthy targ yourself."

~o~

Boy, how time flies when you are having fun. And when you are planning a wedding. An interspecies wedding that the matriarch of the groom's somewhat house opposed - but Martok assured me she couldn't do anything about it because of how much Worf and I loved each other, and that it was enough.

I just hoped so.

Right now, I was on the first day of the "journey" with Sirella, and it involved lifting two weights from their pedestals and chanting in Klingon - I'd begun to learn, speak and understand the language since planning the wedding began - and placed them back when I was finished, but it had not been easy because of how heavy they were. I wasn't a very strong being, which was nothing new but also did not lessen the ever-growing tension between Sirella and myself. We had to go through this ritual five times before I finally mastered it.

"If you were a Klingon woman, you would have done it correct the first time," she told me. "But you are not, so we will go through this ceremony as many times as we must. Maybe your feeble body composition would know how to lift heavy things in the future, Jadzia."

I wanted so much to spit out a curse I learned in Klingonese, but it would not have ended well, and she'd call me an enemy and cancel the wedding. I'd be forbidden to join the House of Martok, and my child would be named a bastard - it was an old Terran term for someone born illegitimately, out of wedlock. Trills never used the phrase, but today it seemed plausible because I loathed the negative connotation it would have on my baby.

Sirella was looking at my abdomen now, seeing how gently curved and rounded it was becoming, her lip curling. "I don't need to repeat what I have said about you remaining an outsider in our family, but that thing -" I just about internally flew into a rage at the way she spoke of my baby - and _Worf's_ \- like that, but if she saw my reaction, she went on unfazed. "- could never truly be accepted, either, because while it is half it's father, the other half that is you, the mother, will not be tolerated in blood."

After the services for the day ended, I angrily went to see K'Ehleyr, my only real female friend in these surroundings, to confide in the insults the shrew gave me about me and the baby. She huffed furiously and slammed her palm flat on the table we both sat at. "It's not honorable to speak of your birthright in that manner!" she said furiously.

"No," I said, rubbing my stomach when I felt it churn. I was starving, so we headed down to the kitchens together. I was craving something that wasn't _gaght_ or anything wriggling. Maybe the _zilm'kach_ with the pipius claws? Strange combo, but I needed something I really liked.

"Make that two services," K'Ehleyr stated, "and with _baghol_ tea on both of us."

"This was what Curzon liked to serve Kang back when he was still trying to secure the peace between the Klingons and the Federation," I said, the memory paining me immensely.

She sniffed when we settled back down in privacy away from the rest of the house. "I'm sorry to hear about the dropping," she said. "Worf filled me in."

"Does Worf share every secret we have?"

K'Ehleyr laughed lightly. "Not everything." She waved her hand dismissively. "He used to talk as much as possible, in the days at Starfleet Academy at least. He's changed so much."

I nearly dropped a claw onto my dish, shocked but also not. They...knew each other at _Starfleet?_ Worf had been...a _Starfleet officer?!_ I looked at K'Ehleyr, and her eyes went wide as if realizing she said too much. "He doesn't speak much of himself, does he?" she asked softly. I shook my head, still stunned; this was yet another secret he kept from me. "That's understandable, because he's been through a great deal more than he's told you and doesn't want to burden you with it."

~o~

I had more Worf to worry about now, but there was still Sirella. I had thought I'd not be surprised at more secrets revealed - and by K'Ehleyr, no less - but I was wrong.

I sat straight and looked ahead while the lady circled me and listened. "And so the Second Dynasty ended when Emperor Reclaw was assassinated by General K'Trelan, and for the next ten years the government was ruled by the people. Modern Klingon historians refer to this as the 'Dark Time'." My next job was to recite the complete chronicle of the women of Sirella's family - and when I first learned of this, I could not be more excited. All the time of waiting to leverage her regarding her lineage from a concubine renamed to be Shenara was about to pay off, and I'd had more than enough time to plan. "But it's interesting to note that this is the first and only time the democracy was ruled by the people -"

A harsh strike on the table caused me to jump but not lose my posture. I did not look at Sirella when she growled viciously. "You are straying from the saga!"

"I wasn't aware I was," I stated, cringing inside. "I'm well aware of what to do, but I thought I'd give an extra perspective along the way, after Princess Shenara...your twenty-third maternal grandmother." Now I looked at her and might have twinkled in my eyes, for she got angrier.

"And that was your task but no more. Now, return to the story and do not repeat this mistake again."

I sprung the trap. "I'm afraid that's when the issue comes in," I said smoothly. The minor heat of the candles washed over my skin, enflaming the desire to humiliate this woman before me. "Not long ago, I came across the story itself, but then it occurred to me that if Emperor Reclaw II was killed, then his whole family would go down with him. And with further research outside the ancient archives, it was confirmed that the rest of the royal family was executed after him - including the Princess Shenara." Now I allowed myself to smirk when I saw her tremble visibly with rage.

"Bite your tongue at once," she hissed, but I wasn't fazed.

"That's not the best of it. When the Third Dynasty came to being a decade later, a new group of Klingons were renamed and ranked after the original imperial family all to pretend the Reclaw line was never destroyed. Which brings me to the point about the woman you think of as your twenty-third maternal grandmother: 'Shenara' was actually named Karana, a prostitute who lived near the stables of the Imperial Palace."

"You will cease this at once or I will cancel your wedding," she threatened, leaning in, but her hot breath on my face made me smile wider. I was in control now, and she knew it.

I laughed haughtily. "Afraid of competition? The old legends stated you have imperial blood, but it's nothing factual because you are actually born as humble as your husband Martok. Except why should Klingons care about facts as long as they keep the traditional storytelling alive..."

I finally received the blow, but unlike last time when Worf and I broke the baby news to her, I smirked tighter and laughed in my throat to show she didn't affect me as much. She didn't go any further than that, instead seethed through her teeth, "Carry on before I call you an enemy of my House, Jadzia Idaris."

Well, the wedding was in three more days, so why not?

~o~

It was hard to believe that for three whole months I was here, and somehow - in a strange way - it had become my home because I found a man I loved but never thought I would, and now I was getting married and having a baby with him.

I was overjoyed when Ziranne and Father Kela came, but my uncle was unable to attend because of health issues. I was half-expecting my father to express his utter disregards on the day before the wedding and then the day itself - but he was surprisingly calm. Then he smiled at me and blessed me before telling me he had met my groom and found Worf "very interesting but very gentlemanly". "I just hope he takes great care of you - and this one," he said when he placed his hand on my rounded stomach where his first grandchild was. I fought back tears as I could hardly believe the happiness.

What endurance I had with Sirella. Just yesterday which was the last time that I had to prove my worthiness that only she judged in accordance to the traditions of her family, I challenged her to a duel and beat her. She spoke in her native tongue, telling me I bested her and showed I was worthy to become an in-law of the House of Martok and therefore Worf's wife - and that meant the baby I was carrying would be accepted.

"You look beautiful," K'Ehleyr told me when she came to help me into my dress and then take her leave to be amongst the guests to watch me enter the Great Hall. I'd been visited by Chancellor Gowron personally who called me an "honorable woman of that Worf", and he proved he meant his word by accepting my hand. Then K'Ehleyr pecked my cheek in a friendly manner before leaving me to finish myself.

But today when I looked at myself in the mirror, I could hardly even believe what I saw. The colors of red and gold were wondrous and bold for me, as I felt powerful, but to SEE my exposed abdomen in this two-piece gown was appalling. Even though she accepted me and would officiate the ceremony, Sirella had insisted I wear this just to show the others that I was clearly pregnant; I had to be strong and endure that as well. The top piece was a cropped halter of embellished gold, and over it lay the targ's tooth my beloved Worf gave me. The skirt itself was billowing folds of red silk, accented with some animal print in the layers. My arms from the middle of the fore to the wrist were covered with slimming fur. My hair was loose and wild, accented with a statement of golden leaves and crystals.

Despite the awkwardness that was my pregnancy showing, I looked and felt sophisticated, ready to go marry the man I loved, and that was all that mattered.

"Not long now," I cooed to the little one in my belly, rubbing my fingers over it before the ceremonial drums began.

I remember the story of the creation which was used for Klingon wedding ceremonies, and it was one of Worf's favorites that it became mine - and now it was for me and him.

 _With fire and steel did the gods forge the Klingon heart. So fiercely did it beat, so loud was the sound, that the gods did cry, "On this day we brought forth the strongest heart in all the heavens. None can stand before it without trembling at its strength." But then...the Klingon heart weakened. Its steady rhythm faltered, and the gods said, "Why have you weakened so we have made you the strongest in all of creation?" And the heart said..._

"I am alone." I was startled from the powerful words when Worf came to stand tall and proud, regally garbed as I was.

 _And the gods knew that they had erred, so they went back to their forge and brought forth...another heart..._

To walk through the hall with all eyes on me was surreal, but I held my head high and my hands gathering my skirts, smiling as serenely as I could be, not stopping until I reached my husband-to-be. I was ready to raise the _bat'leth_ \- a ritual common to show that the bride was willing to convince the other that she was wiser in the sense of the words that I would say:

 _If we join together, no force can stop us._

~o~

Five months later, the end of the birth was easy if very painful.

I experienced eight hours of bloody labor, surrounded by Worf as well as a few other female Klingons, and K'Ehleyr who had come to assist with the birth because she was a friend. I have not felt such pain before as I was torn apart inside, thought I was going to die...

But the cries that came were healthy and shrill. I could breathe a sigh of relief even if my insides still bled. Internal hemorrhaging, Worf said, and he would get to it soon. My vision was blurry that I didn't get the chance to see the baby - _our_ baby - before it was carried away to be washed, and I was left to be tended to by my husband who had been somewhat nervous about delivering the child. And without trouble.

I felt like I wanted to sleep by the time he was finished with me. "Jadzia, don't you want to see him?" he asked me when he gently shook me awake, but when I blinked and looked at him, he had worry etched all over his face. I had no idea why - and then I heard K'Ehleyr as well as soft cooing.

"It's a boy," she said softly when she knelt down and held out the little bundle of fur for me to take. "A beautiful, healthy son."

Tears burned my eyes as I tried not to cry when I looked at the face of our son. I couldn't believe it; it _was_ a beautiful baby boy. His hair was soft and dark, his eyes not yet opened, and his skin was a soft gold with the spots of a Trill on either side of his face and working down... _wait._

Studying him again, I felt the joy being replaced with confusion. I did not see one ounce of Klingon in him - not even the etched lines on the forehead. Looking up at Worf and hearing K'Ehleyr's sharp intake of breath but ignored her, I was sure my eyes were asking him the question on my mind:

Why did our son have half Trill in him, but NO trace of _Klingon?_

 **In the non-canon Starfleet Academy series, in my research, Worf met K'Ehleyr while he was still at the academy. So there is no Alexander, too, sadly. :(**

 **Somehow I feel satisfied with how the wedding came out. :) And the dress has changed if remained the same with the colors. She's more sophisticated and sexy. ;) And as for the baby - it's a BOY. But now there is the major question: how is it half Trill and half HUMAN, with no trace of Klingon? :O That was the twist I had planned from the beginning, so hold onto the edges of your seats now, ladies and gents, for the ride is getting faster and pumping.**


	13. Someone Said Goodbye

**Everyone, I am so sorry for keeping you all waiting. It was difficult to try and expand what I had planned as well since before I began the story, so I hope it comes out well and I pray this chapter was worth the wait. I'd been tackling a few of my first shorts for a cartoon Disney show I grew up with as a child, "Kim Possible".**

Chapter Thirteen

Someone Said Goodbye

"Worf?" I finally found my voice as I looked at my husband with the cooing child still in my arms. He turned his back to us then, as if ashamed and unsure of what to do. Whatever it was, he had let yet another secret of his spilled out - and I was sure that our lives were going to become that much harder than before.

I repeated his name again. "Worf, why is there nothing of you in him?" I demanded, keeping my voice even in case I upset our son. I felt K'Ehleyr take him from me as I kept my eyes locked on his back. I watched as his shoulders rolled forward and then backward and back again as he exhaled.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this, Jadzia," was all he said, and just like that, he abandoned me and our baby. My heart shattered to pieces. I did not know what was going on, but this time with our child born, I knew now was the time. I looked up at my friend.

"K'Ehleyr, what is going on?" I asked. If there was no Klingon in the baby, then what was it?

More importantly: Worf could not truly be Klingon. Not completely.

I do not know why I never pieced it together before, but even the most genius brains could miss anything important even if the clues were before your own two eyes. I'd put up with Worf's secrets long enough, and I deserved to know everything. I also deserved to know what he really was if he wasn't -

"Jadzia," K'Ehleyr spoke softly as if reading my thoughts which might as well be written all over my face, rocking the baby gently, "you deserve to know now that your son is half Trill and half...human."

My stomach flip-flopped then and there.

"H-h-human?" I repeated, frozen in every part of my body, cold outwardly and burning inside.

Now my brain clicked then and there, just like that: Worf - my Worf - was human. Surgically altered; that had to be it. Why didn't I ever thought of it before?! I should have known...should have known...

"He's a beautiful little young targ, isn't he?" General Martok joked as he made his appearance, walking into the room and taking the baby from K'Ehleyr, roaring with proud laughter and as he pounced my son up and down. "Yeah, strong and handsome like his father - and as wondrous as his mother," he added, winking at me, but I couldn't smile at him. I knew he had been in on this, but I could not blame him until I heard his part of this enormous lie that had been kept from me that I was not sure I could accept if any apologies were made, any explanations.

"Martok, is this true?"

His jovial mood shifted immediately, and he looked at me with an unreadable expression for a moment before walking over to me, sitting beside me on the bed and handing me my child, whom I willingly took and held protectively. He grunted against my breast and reached for it; I adjusted him as I pulled the front of my gown down to place him there to suckle. The sensation was beloved and comforting enough.

Martok watched us for a moment, interested and respectable, before nodding and answering me. "Yes, it is true. Your Worf, the man I have cherished as part of my own family, isn't what he appears to be on the outside. On the inside, he is his mother...and his father."

"He's really a human," I stated. "Why would you all keep this from me all this time?" I hadn't meant to sound so harsh, but the time was up. Everything was coming to the blue, as the Terrans would say it. He lowered his head briefly before looking at me and telling me the whole story, save for a couple details that I decided could wait for now - but the entirety of the tale sent me spiraling downwards that I demanded that my husband and father of my child be brought to me at once.

Or rather, I wanted to be taken to him in this state and show him that despite having only given birth to his child, I wanted to help him with the reason he had been surgically altered from his true self to the man he was on the outside.

~o~

He was far from pleased to see me. I had no idea who he was anymore, if his name was not Worf because Martok had mysteriously said that he would tell me on his own time. I was supposed to be resting, but I did not care.

"Jadzia, you should go back to bed -" he started, but I struck him across the face because of my anger.

"To hell with bed!" I screamed at him in spite of myself. "I AM TIRED OF THE SECRETS AND LIES!"

He growled and rubbed his face, his eyes on fire. "Jadzia Idaris, the doctor's orders," he warned, on the verge of lashing back out but held himself together as I continued to let it out at him. I had given birth to his son, but I was not going to relax because now was better than any longer than it had been. I stalked past him to sit on the sofa, noticing now that the pictures of his human "friends" were gone; it clicked then that he hid them because of the discovery of our baby's splice of our species'.

"Martok told me everything," I said coldly, looking up at him as he turned and followed me. Crossing my legs and folding my arms across my chest, I lifted my chin at him. "Told me _what_ you really were."

"I suppose he said who I really was, too," Worf stated, strangely and surprisingly calm that it infuriated me.

"Not at all. He said you'd tell me yourself, but that can wait for another time. You are here in hiding because a vengeful Klingon former politician is after you because of what happened between you both - and your family, three years ago. But that is not all; I want you to tell me this yourself."

His teeth bared as he clenched his jaw. "Duras - you should know. I should not have to tell you if you already know, Jadzia," he said dismissively.

I was tempted to jump to my feet because of his ever attempts to avoid me trying to get him to tell me. "Forget what I already know, Worf," I snarled. "This is about you telling me the truth - the _whole_ truth. It's about damned time, too! And don't you dare dance around anything or I will indeed pack my bags and take our son with me."

Worf was definitely mad that I had dared to threaten to take our child from him, but I never intended to do such a thing. I was expecting him to say a good comeback, but he didn't. He was absorbed in his own mind as he tried to think of how to tell me about Duras, son of Ja'rod, who was notorious for treacherous acts to get what he wanted.

"His heart is not Klingon," Worf said after a long moment. "He might have been a member of the Empire, but his family had a long history of treason. For example, his father was implicated almost four years ago in a scheme to betray the Khitomer colony to the Romulan Empire, therefore Duras himself fought to prevent himself from being named the son of a traitor to the Klingon Empire. Martok's family - my mother being a distant cousin of it - have long been enemies of the Duras family, but then Duras turned his attention to my family when Martok dared to challenge him, since we all knew the truth about Ja'rod. My father was killed, and my mother would have been if I had not intervened, but I myself was injured in the process. Duras saw me as the bigger threat now, but he could not kill me as of yet. He swore he would find me someday soon, and I would never see it coming. Both my parents agreed with the general that I should be the one to protect them all and hide - at the cost of my entire being."

I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience with this story that I'd heard first from Martok and now my beloved in front of me. Worf had been made into this to protect himself and his mother. He'd told me he was not close to his parents; I don't know if he half-lied to me or completely, but now I understood - and I also understood out there that there was a dishonorable Klingon to take care of. I now understood why I was here, too, besides being with Worf and being the mother of his child:

I was destined to help him slay an enemy in honorable combat. Duras, son of Ja'rod, deserved what he would get for his treachery. He hunted Worf with no such luck, but my love was not living alive and safe as long as he was here.

"Now you know why I was forced to restrain who I really am," he continued, kneeling in front of me. "I have to not let anyone see that I am human. I had no Klingon father, no title and land - nothing to be like General Martok, and that is why Lady Sirella spurns me. Because I am what you now know."

His head bowed once more, refusing to show me his face. "But if you saw my real face, then you won't know me anymore," he said regretfully. "I won't be the man you have gotten to know. I was lost until you helped me back - but I don't deserve you anymore."

I gasped in pure shock. How could he SAY such things?! I loved him since I met him, put up with his mystery and his attitude, and everything in between; today I bore his son, and now I found out he was really a human; the story and truth behind it was more dangerous than I would have expected, but as I had no idea what the face of the real man was - or even his name - I did wonder if I would accept that face apart from the one in front of me.

Why was I thinking this way? No matter what he looked like, he would always be the Worf I first met.

"That is most certainly not true," I said heatedly, taking his face into my hands. "Worf, no matter who or what you are, you're always going to be the same man I fell in love with and married. I am not leaving you, and I won't let Duras get away with this. I want to help you take him down."

~o~

When change comes, things start to feel a little colder because it was a form of saying good-bye and you never knew why. But such was half yes and half not the case with me and my new family.

I felt like crying inside when Worf finally opened up to me, trusted me with his biggest secret that I should have felt betrayed. We had one thing in common, and that was we were both here in hiding for certain reasons, albeit different. I had been dropped by a man I thought of as a mentor just because I fell in love with a strange Klingon man - who actually was not - and said man had been changed surgically, pretending to be something he was a portion of in blood and therefore miserable because of a great burden placed on his shoulders.

I had meant it when I told Worf I wanted to help him fight Duras, and he'd been reluctant to do this. Martok was torn between us, because he did believe in facing an opponent in an honorable, personal combat for what he did to this family. I wanted to be there when the time came.

Now I was laying in bed in my own room. Despite being married, we still had separate rooms, but I had an extra area configured to be a nursery for our newborn son. He would have everything he needed and more in the future should we decided to come back to this other place we grew to call home.

I lay resting and staring at the ceiling, wishing sleep would claim me but couldn't. The baby was in the other room, and K'Ehleyr would gladly help with nursing him as I needed a few more days' recovering. This time I would not get out of bed for whatever reasons other than to relieve myself. Sirella had come to see me following the birth, cold as ever...and then broke into a warm smile I never expected. Word had gotten back to her ears following my discovery of the man behind the one I knew as Worf.

"Does it make you...love him any less now that you know what really lies behind that face you've grown to know?" I'd shaken my head then, not knowing where she was going at first, if this was another trick to get me down... "You're very fortunate, Jadzia. You have heard these words from my husband, but I shall say so anyway: no one is accorded the luxury to choose whom they fall in love with. I refuse to lay in my husband's bed as often as he would like, but life is hollow without him. He is a fine man and warrior - and so is Worf, even if he is his mother's son."

I had sighed, too tired to put up with her. "Would you get to the point?"

She'd lifted her chin. "I am not here to challenge you. I am merely stating that Worf may not be blood to me, nor would I accept him as an equal - but he is still family, and I cannot dispose of him as I could never of you." She'd turned her head in the direction to where my son lay sleeping in his makeshift crib, striding over and looking over him, a small smile tugging the corner of her mouth facing me. "He's a remarkable little one, I shall praise. He's strong, like his mother."

She was telling me that she had been wrong to spurn me, too, even though we would always be different, and I had won the battle of the in-laws. I felt utterly proud of myself as Worf had reasons to be for himself. This was the first real time I was truly grateful for Lady Sirella.

Sirella left me alone then, to go to sleep then and there, and when I did, darkness claimed me...but the voice of Kahless the Unforgettable greeted me at once.

 _You have done well thus far, Jadzia._

 _I married Worf, bore his son and found out the truth about him,_ I replied, _but what is next? The fight against Duras the Traitor's Son is really the worst to come?_

 _Indeed, it is. Your task is nearly complete - but this end of the journey marks the beginning of another to come. Right now, as soon as you recover, you have to help change him back to the man he really is. To reveal his true face will help him in this battle. He may not be true Klingon, but he has the heart of a warrior as you do._

I do not know how much time passed before I opened my eyes again, finding the sunlight casting over the ceiling fading to amber, red and gold; the sun was going down. I had slept nearly the whole day. I had been in conversation with the first emperor, and the mystery was coming to a close.

What Kahless said could only mean one thing: I had to either contact a friend of mine from Starfleet to change Worf back for the final confrontation, or I could ask K'Ehleyr if she had connections...but either way, I would see my husband's true self.

~o~

The _USS Livingston_ \- the very same ship that Curzon Dax once served in the late 2350s, and now I was here for Worf's surgery because K'Ehleyr had a connection of a surgeon here. An old friend of hers from Starfleet days, whom Worf also knew as well and would very much help us.

I was back in my uniform, hair swept back into its ponytail, and this time I had my baby boy in my arms. Rarely do you ever see an officer of the Federation with a baby in your arms, such as my position. But no one spoke to me disrespectfully, instead nodded and smiled at me, but there were others who just gave me professional glances that I didn't mind at all. K'Ehleyr was beside me the entire time, Worf between us, and I could see it in the eyes of those around us: I was the mother of his child. But who was anyone to criticize interspecies marriage nowadays?

K'Ehleyr's surgeon friend was a Vulcan male named Derak, and he willingly accepted to do the procedure, but it wasn't like he didn't agree on the communications channel. Cool, collected and logical, he did it for the sake of his comrades. Vulcans and no ruling emotions - I sometimes don't understand them, but they are what they are.

"There has never been once a failed process on my record, Ensign," Derak told me, unblinking and composed. "Rest assured, your husband will come to." He bowed his head once and left me alone. A few hours passed by that felt like an eternity as we waited. I looked at my friend K'Ehleyr who assured me with a hand on my lower back.

"Believe in him, Jadzia."

I jerked my head in the other direction behind me at the sound of that voice I had been horrified to see - and the face I never thought I would see. "Curzon Dax, to what do I owe the unexpected pleasure?" I asked coldly, keeping a protective hold on my son and held him to my breast. He whimpered upon sensing my anger at the man who ruined my life.

Curzon chuckled and inclined his head forward. "My dear, I never thought I would find you on the place I have once served..."

"Because I know the truth about my husband," I interrupted frostily, "and I have never been more happier if not completely whole when you ruined my life because you took the one thing I wanted most!" I kept my voice low, but I had to let him know how angry I was. "If I said I were happy to see you, I would be lying for sure indefinitely."

He looked very surprised before it reverted to threatening and icy. "I would watch that tongue, little girl. You wouldn't want me to expel your Starfleet position, would you?" he asked, walking up to me and leaning down to stick his nose in my face, but I returned it. He intimidated me once, and he wouldn't do it again.

"You don't scare me, Curzon. You never did. When all of this is over and I return after I help my husband complete his mission, then we return to our lives. I don't need you to run it for me." I lifted my chin at him.

"And then I'll return to the Symbiosis Commission to reapply. I dare you to try and stop me."

"Ensign Idaris, the procedure is complete."

Curzon never had his chance to respond to me when I turned away from him to the sound of Derak's confident voice. "It was a success," he informed me honorably. "He lives, and he wishes to see you now before we place him under for rest."

I was on the verge of crying happily as I tried to imagine my husband's face. In my arms, our son grunted and cooed, which also sparked the attention of my former field docent. "He's a precious little boy," Curzon noted, reaching, but I held back and protected my child from him, earning a wounded expression. "Jadzia, I only wish to give my blessings."

I wanted to curse at him, but then K'Ehleyr was there. "Go on to see him," she said softly. "I'll protect your son." I smiled at her, trusting her before turning and following the Vulcan inside the infirmary. The nurse who was a lovely middle-aged Andorian nodded when she turned to me, standing aside for me to see my sleeping husband on the bed.

I blinked in stunned shock as I looked at the handsome human face. Was that _really_ my Worf?

It was the same young man I saw in the picture all those months ago. That... _Julian Bashir_. He was looking at me with the same soulful, fiery amber eyes - and this time with more tenderness than I remembered seeing in him. I also saw grief and sorrow. He had been a Klingon long enough that he had almost forgotten what it was like to be human. I felt my legs move alone forward until I found myself kneeling before the bed beside him, reaching to take his hand, noting how much smaller it was than before, but still larger than mine...and so soft and smooth.

"Worf," I whispered, feeling my cheek burn with a tear streaking down. He smiled at me then - a real smile, sincere and meaningful when he seldom did. His other hand came up and caressed my face while wiping the tear away. His silken skin made me melt.

"It's Julian now, my love. Dr. Julian Bashir, Starfleet medical officer."

 **I had read about Duras in my research on K'Ehleyr, and he seemed promising enough to become an adversary of Worf and Jadzia in here, but it was difficult to make him right. I'll watch more TNG someday soon, but for now, I'm relieved I got this the way I had to. :) I hope you all liked this.**

 **I had it planned from the beginning for Worf to really be Dr. Julian Bashir. It was intended to NEVER make a direct love triangle between them and Jadzia, given how the show progressed from Julian in love with her only to not get her, his feelings strong even when she turned to Worf - and ended with Ezri Dax in the end. I thought it was new and fresh for surgically altered Julian to be the one Jadzia fell in love with. :) That is, if no one has already done it.**

 **Next chapter - which is the grand finale - we will see the ultimate confrontation. :D Stay tuned! This story may have been challenging and refreshing, but it was worth it.**


	14. Only Time

**Grand finale here. Enjoy!**

Chapter Fourteen

Only Time

"It IS you," I whispered, turning my face into the palm of his hand caressing my cheek, kissing it tenderly. "Oh...I'm never going to call you Worf again...Julian." This new name was too foreign for me, but it was still the same man as I promised myself. His eyes were the windows to his soul; I could not treat him as a stranger. He was still my Klingon at heart no matter what.

His voice was lower than before, but still rich with a baritone accent that made my nerves excited. "Worf" was gruff, but strong and confident - and tormented all the same, and this was the reason why. In all the time I'd shared with him, it was a little difficult to see the face if not the eyes. Julian Bashir, however...I wanted to get to know this man who wasn't the one I married.

Julian lowered his eyes. To use his real name was still as I said it was: foreign. "You don't have to explain more."

"But I do," I insisted, the tears coming harder. "I still love you, but I'm going to have to get used to this new face."

His gaze was back to me, trying to smile but found it hard. "You sure you won't leave me because I'm not the man you thought I was?" he asked, turning his body halfway to me so we had nearly the same contact. Sobbing, I bowed my head forward and leaned against his heart.

"Oh...Julian..."

He sighed, his hands coming up to massage my back through my uniform. "I love it when you say my name - even if it's not the one I have always gone by for the last few years. There were times I nearly forgot who I really was."

I could only imagine how difficult that had been for him. Masquerading as something and someone else, being outcasted and forced to restrain what his true personality was; it made me love him all the more. "Believe me...I know what it was like." As my life had been taken from me - but like I promised Curzon, I would go back and fight with what I had. For my family and for myself.

"Jadzia," he said after a long time to pass. I had been listening to his wonderful heartbeat which had not changed at all. "I fear the outcome of the battle to face against Duras. How to find him, how we should keep him from killing one of us or even both, which will most likely deprive our son of both parents..."

"Not if I can help you out." We both turned behind us to see K'Ehleyr standing in the doorway, with a broad grin on her face. Our baby was in her arms and looking at us both with curious eyes, then landed specifically on the face of his father - or rather, the man he wondered could be his father. But as he grew up, he might never see the face of "Worf" again, not learn the ways of the Klingon warrior if he didn't want to.

"K'Ehleyr," Julian noted, smiling and remaining lying back as he knew from his doctor's point of view that he should not move a lot. "Surprised to finally see me again?"

"You bet." She winked before getting serious. "So, the matter of Duras..."

~o~

"We still don't even know what to name him," I reminded him as we boarded the Klingon runabout back to Qo'noS. I did not see or speak to Curzon again when Julian was cleared to leave. I thanked Derak with K'Ehleyr before we departed. From what we heard, he was supposedly heading for Qo'noS after an important battle, ready to be received as a hero, but not for long. If there could be a good way to confront him in combat, or get his attention on us somehow so we could spring the trap...

I looked at my husband from the copilot's seat when I held our son in my arms yet again. He'd have to be laying down soon, but right now I wanted to spend some more time with him as a family. When he was Worf - I meant Julian - we had debated over names but never agreed officially, so maybe now was the time.

He looked over from the corner of his eye, smirking to that corner that made me melt. I wasn't sure if I could get used to that. "I do know one. How does...Alexander sounds?" he suggested.

My jaw dropped. "Alexander?" The name wasn't terrible, but I needed to know.

"Named after a distant cousin of mine on my father's side. Died in combat several years before. Does it appeal to you?"

I tested the name, given I knew my husband's real name. "Alexander Bashir..." I smiled then, looking down at his face, seeing the face of his father and the sides of his face lined with my spots. He was beautiful and precious, so I knew I had to protect him at all costs. "It's perfect."

He returned his attention to the controls then and there. I took my time to note how bright he was, but then it would switch to the somber I remembered in Worf. I had so much to ask him about his parents - his human parents, Richard and Amsha Bashir - and I knew the father was dead, but his mother was still alive. I wanted to know now. "What about your parents?" I asked gently. "Were you telling me the truth when you said you weren't close to them?"

Julian's face hardened. He looked at me briefly, giving me a little bit of that Worf in him before it softened. "Yes, I was. It's a long story there, but I was never close to my parents even when I tried to protect them from Duras."

"Okay." I stood up then. I'd checked to make sure the sensors were online, the plasma system in check and everything else, so now I could put our son - Alexander - in his bed made up in one of the bunks until we got home. It was so strange that I could use the word "home" for Qo'noS. The humans had a saying that was "home is where the heart is".

K'Ehleyr was at the replicator getting herself a raktajino. I could use one myself. She smiled. "I'll take him down for you," she offered, and I allowed her to cradle Alexander. "Did you name him?"

"Alexander," I answered proudly. She laughed and thought it was perfect. I turned to leave her alone and get back to the helm with my husband.

Some time passed before we both noticed how she never returned to join us. I began to feel worried, but maybe she decided to watch over Alexander for us. But Julian had his doubts. "She's never gone this long," he said, standing up. "I'll take it from here." He leaned over and kissed my forehead gently before leaving the brig.

I tried to be cool and calm that K'Ehleyr was all right, yet I could not shake off the cold dread. What if something...happened to her? I quickly asked the computer to scan the number of life-forms here on the ship, and I quickly got the response.

 _"There are five life-forms."_

I furrowed my brow, counting off myself then my husband, our son, K'Ehleyr...wait, there was only _four_ of us, and the computer was saying FIVE.

 _Someone else was aboard._

Immediately, I knew we were all in danger, whoever this intruder was and however they bypassed the security of this vessel; I drew my phaser and quickly hurried through the doors, pointing it at every turn in case the intruder was hiding. So far, I did not find him or her - but then I came across the cabins...specifically the one where Alexander was.

Before I went there, I nearly screamed when I saw my dear friend, K'Ehleyr, lying in a pool of blood at my feet. "Oh, gods!" I gasped, dropping to my knees but keeping my weapon in my hand. She was still alive, but not for long. I had no idea how long she was like this, but Julian and our son needed me if they were still alive.

K'Ehleyr gasped and coughed up blood. "J-Jadzia," she croaked, "he's...here...D.."

She didn't need to finish. "Duras is here," I whispered.

"You must..." She placed her hand over mine as one last gesture. "...kill...him..." That was what she said before she closed her eyes and exhaled one last time. She was gone. I wanted to weep for her but knew now was not the time. My family needed me. Laying K'Ehleyr's body down, I found both my hands covered in her blood. I closed my fingers into fists and made the blood oath that I would avenge her and protect the ones we both loved. Vow made, I stood and raised my weapon before going into the room where I heard my child crying...

...and saw my Julian being held against a dangerous-looking Klingon man with his _dk'tang_ at my husband's throat. "Jadzia," he managed, but got no further. "Don't!"

"Too late, hellcat," Duras growled in Klingonese. "You will die here with your husband and the child." He nodded in the direction where the baby was resting, and crying as he was helpless against the impending fight to the death that would take place. He grinned savagely at Julian. "I've waited so long for this day, Dr. Bashir...and now my family will have its revenge against yours."

I gritted my teeth at the monster who ruined my husband's life, who committed countless atrocities before now, and who killed our friend outside. I could imagine how Julian felt and what vengeance he must be feeling now. "Let my husband and son go, and face me yourself," I said, aiming my pistol to his face and ready to smoke his brains out instead, end it here and now, but he laughed cruelly.

"That will not be honorable to kill me in cold blood, Trill."

"Just as killing a very dear friend of ours was not!" I returned. "Now let him go, or I will kill you where you stand!" My finger itched to pull the trigger with each second that passed...

Duras bared his teeth and snarled, giving Julian a little painful cut to his temple before letting him go crumpling to the ground, clutching his minor wound to the forehead. "So be it." He advanced my way with his dagger raised, and now I wish I had a _bat'leth_ or at least a Klingon dagger on me instead. Quickly, I turned and ran out of the room, stumbling over the corpse of my friend in the process.

It was then and there I saw her knife on her belt, grabbing it and standing to continue running. Now I had two weapons, but he was coming onto me fast. I dodged the first slash to my face, then brought my dagger upwards and sliced his wrist holding his weapon, causing him to howl in pain and clutch his wound. I gave him a little grin; who was helpless now? I pointed the knife at him as I held my stance, prepared to strike next if he didn't soon. He glared at me savagely, spitting out a curse that I returned.

"You're a traitor as your father before you," I rasped, "and you tried to kill Martok's entire family for knowing the truth about it. And now you're going to pay for it. If the Council won't stand up to you, then so will I."

"You won't get away with it, girl," Duras growled, before he let loose an exclamation in his language and displayed utter shock and immense pain. I looked past his shoulder and saw why: Julian had snuck up behind him and stabbed him in the back with his own blade. He gave me a triumphant smile that I returned.

I looked at Duras when he spoke. "You will not...have this day..."

"Yes, I will," I returned, bringing my knife upwards and striking to his heart, killing him right away. Blood poured onto my hand, adding a darker shade to the stains. Drawing the equally stained blade from him, I watched as Duras, son of Ja'rod, fell dead not that far away from our dear friend K'Ehleyr who did not deserve this. In the background, we could still hear Alexander crying for us.

Ignoring our enemy dead at our feet for the moment, I found myself looking into my husband's eyes - my Julian, my Worf, it did not matter - and I allowed myself to wrap my arms around his neck to bring him down for a deep, fiery kiss before we broke it off to turn and run back to give our son his comfort.

~o~

I know I said this before so many times, and I doubt it will ever be the last time.

When Julian and I returned to Starfleet and then knelt before the Klingon High Council, I expected us both to suffer some form of charge - namely before the council - but we were both labeled as heroes. K'Ehleyr was mourned, of course, and we attended the funeral which took place aboard the _Enterprise_ , headed by Captain Picard himself. It was somber, as expected, and I held my baby on my hip as Julian and I sat beside each other, watching as the coffin was shot out into space.

When we were back on Qo'noS, we knelt before Chancellor Gowron as he dubbed us both honorable warriors, but not yet to take such blood oaths given we were not true, wise warriors to come of age. That was well for us, but Gowron swore he would completely trust us both to give such an honor to live on in history to come.

And our Starfleet careers? We returned together and were stationed on the _USS Cochrane_ \- for the time being - but Julian was working to get his medical career back on track; I found that my husband had taken classes concentrating on starship operations while he was at Starfleet. I had to do the same for myself...and this might cause a rift between us and raising our son, for I knew I had to go back to the Symbiosis Commission to reclaim what should have been mine.

I was going to get the Dax symbiont one day, and I wouldn't let Curzon or anyone else stop me again.

When we first arrived on the _Cochrane,_ we were both given a promotion to lieutenant junior grade, which was a great honor. Afterwards, I knew this was when I would temporarily say good-bye to my husband and son, and it made my heart wrench. I'd be going back to Trill and tearing through the initiation, going through all those tests which allowed me to put so much pressure on myself because I knew what I wanted. I was doing this for myself - and I want to say I am doing this for my family.

Julian...Alexander...

I wondered if I was abandoning them for this, even though I knew I would return when I was finished. The board was shocked to their cores when I demanded - yes, demanded - to be reinstated. I showed them right.

In three years, I was established. Imagine the look on Curzon's face when I was qualified. It wouldn't be long one day soon...

I swore I would never return to that place again, now that I looked behind my shoulder in the transportation vehicle taking me away once and for all. I never once left that structure, and there was no way to describe the torturous tests I endured. I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to tell Julian about this when I saw him again.

Surprisingly, my driver took me to the spaceport where my husband waited for me, beaming from ear-to-ear. When I kept in touch with him, he was doing well for a doctor. Established his practice and our son was walking and talking fine, which I missed and regretted immensely. But when I got home, I would more than make up for any lost time.

"Jadzia," Julian breathed when he swept me up and kissed me. "I can't tell you how much we've missed you. And we have a surprise for you."

I loved surprises, but this one took me aback altogether when he brought me back to my home, to where I grew up and my family was waiting for me, as well as our friends and colleagues from Starfleet. So was Julian's mother whom I got to meet for the first time, with Alexander in her arms, as well as General Martok and Lady Sirella...and I was beyond speechless when Julian told me the surprise that I knew I could not say no to.

"Jadzia, will you marry me again?"

It was a renewal, not only because I'd married another face if being the same man, but to reaffirm our love and to cut the separation for the last three years. Everything had been prepared for me a second time around, not that I minded. This time was softer and more bridal than the first time, showing I was a changed woman - on the verge of it. The dress I wore was plunging in the neckline, hugging my body in the right places and intricately laced all over. My hair was braided up and accented with petite brooches throughout to match the crystal and pearl headband. To see myself in the mirror made me feel like I was in a dream, wondering if this was really happening...

I had to touch the targ's tooth around my neck - the one from both Worf and Julian so long ago - to let myself know I was not dreaming.

~o~

Who'd have thought that I'd end up in this position when I was laying on the operating table after another year to pass?

The day had come, and I was both excited and grieving at the same time. Excited because I was called in to become the next host of the Dax symbiont - and I was grieving because Curzon was dying. This was how it was between host and symbiont, in which one could not live without the other for that long.

I was grateful that the time came, after a long path fraught with obstacles. Believing in Kahless' wisdom, I allowed myself to fight for my own destiny, and it got me everything I ever wanted in my life; I also did everything I could to make those around me happy even if I could not always please everyone.

Curzon had been spending some time on Risa, I heard, when he suffered strain while being with a woman he'd known. Womanizer - he certainly got a somewhat happy ending after all, even if he spent the last of his days yelling at the doctors around him. I thought it amusing...but it did not give me the closure I wanted with him. I never knew why he dropped me the way he did, and it seemed now was my chance before I would lay on that table beside him during the surgery of removing the symbiont from him into me.

I was shocked when he told me. I was standing over his hospital bio-bed when I came to see him.

"Jadzia," he said softly, sighing and closing his eyes, the strain of old age and lovemaking with a younger woman gotten to him, "the reason I had you washed was because the moment I met you, I began to see you as more than just my student, no matter how hard I tried to shove it down...and it was the same way your husband feels for you."

"You...loved me," I clarified, stunned because never in a million years did I ever think he'd feel like this for me, an older man for a young woman who was vying so hard to become the next host.

Curzon then reached for my hand. "I tried to ignore it, thought it foolish because I was your superior, so I had no choice. When you told me you were pregnant, I decided that was the chance. But in the end, I regretted my actions of robbing you of what you wanted most - and I always knew you'd be worthy of the name Dax, Jadzia. You proved me wrong all this time, but you had to fight back yourself as I tried to teach you. You prevailed in the end." His eyes closed for a moment before opening them again and looking up at the ceiling.

"I meant my word when I blessed your son. You have a wonderful family; don't let Dax overwhelm you and change who you are inside, and don't let it change your love for Dr. Bashir."

I held my breath when he reached to take my hand as he said this, his gesture of releasing me from the pain he caused me and promising me that the future would look up now. After all, who could ever say where the road went? I'd gone down that road so many times in my life, rewarded and lost any time, but it was worth it.

I lay naked on the operating table now, the light shining over my eyes, but my body was covered with a sheet. I swallowed, but the doctors assured me I was in good hands. I trusted them all with my life.

I found myself looking over at the man I blamed for trying to take my life away, getting my hopes up and crushing them - but then I found out it was because he had feelings for me besides as a mentor and student, which would never truly happen because I was married and had a child. He blessed me, gave me my dignity back and told me I was worthy to be his successor. I wanted so much to reach out to him when he turned and smiled at me. This was it.

"Curzon..." was all I could say when I felt myself drift away, under the effects of the hypospray.

When I awoke, I don't know how to explain the onslaught of memories that empowered my senses. I felt IT moving within my abdomen - the worm. The Dax symbiont, excited to guide me but otherwise let me take charge of my path. I felt like a whole new person - or should I say, six different people? I was still Jadzia, wife of a great Starfleet physician and mother of his child, but I was not just Lt. Jadzia Idaris anymore, or Lt. Jadzia Bashir for that matter.

I was Jadzia _Dax._

I have never felt so good in my life - or rather, six lives now that I was the latest.

I heard so many voices in my head then when I came to, but I knew two of them as Curzon who was inside me now, as well as Torias and Emony and so forth...and even Kahless who now saw fit to let me go alone but would always be watching me.

 _You have done well._

I looked up then, clutching the sheet to my body and found myself staring at two familiar faces who were looming over me. From the corner of my eye, I saw the body of Curzon being taken away, and felt myself twinge yet again. I would miss him even though I now carried his memories...every one of them...and felt what he said was love for me...

"Will you still be the Jadzia I have known - even with another being, and several others inside you?" Julian whispered as I slowly sat up, keeping the sheet close to my chest. I looked first at him and then our Alexander in his arms, who reached out to me and uttered one word with sweet sadness on his little face.

"Mama."

My heart melted as I reached to grasp that little hand that made me feel so warm, then leaned my head against my husband's heart, feeling the brave beat reverberate through my being.

"Always," I promised softly.

 **When my grandfather died of a heart attack in his sleep in late February 2002, the remix version of Enya's "Only Time" was played, and it was also the first song by her I was exposed to. It's still a favorite and is perfect for anyone who lost a loved one or someone close to them at anytime. :'(**

 **I'd faced the dilemma when I got to this final confrontation when we finally meet Duras. It was a nice departure for me because usually I have the main characters facing the antagonist early on instead of at the end. I also was torn between killing K'Ehleyr or not, given she was beloved, but I thought of it as a homage to the show and because I actually care about her as much as you all do.**

 **So, I thought I would not do Alexander in here, but then came along the birth of Jadzia and Julian's son I eventually decided it would not be a bad idea. :) Alexander Bashir has a nice ring to it. In addition, for Jadzia to have closure with Curzon nearly the same way as she did on the show was what was vital to bring this tale to a satisfying end, and what better way to wake up than to her husband and baby boy over her?**

 **I am really proud of this story, and a review is appreciated. :D**


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